


Duty

by BreLakor



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Homophobia, M/M, Original Character(s), POV First Person, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 04:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreLakor/pseuds/BreLakor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're an Admiral's son, certain things are expected of you. You're expected to contribute to the Migrant Fleet, you're expected to bring back a notable gift from your pilgrimage, you're expected to lead your people. And you're not expected to fall in love with another man. </p><p>Kal'Reegar & OC centric fic, written in first person. Spans pre-pilgrimage events to during the reaper war. Includes brief one-sided Tali'Zorah/Kal'Reegar and hinted at Tali'Zorah/Garrus</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've been working/thinking/etc on for a pretty long time, and eventually just thought I'd start posting it :) originally I meant to post the entire work in one go, but now I think I'll do it in smaller chapters over time... 
> 
> This fic will jump between 2 major POV's (first time writing first person, let's see how it works!) and a couple of different points in the Mass Effect timeline. Includes several OC's that play minor roles, mainly to fill in Reegar's squad during Haestrom and Palaven. Certain things will be explained along the way, including why I refer to Reegar as 'Reegar' instead of Kal and why I flagged homophobia as a warning for this fic (although in that case it was mostly just as a precaution.) There are some very minor changes to canon, too, just as a warning!
> 
> Aside from this, I hope somebody out there enjoys this and thank's to Bioware for the characters and Rebellion DLC which made me fall in love with Quarians all over again...
> 
> (May flag more things in the future and/or change rating)

I've known, for almost as long as I can remember, that I'm different.

 

Had I been born to a different family, nobody would have cared, they would have been fine with it.

 

But I wasn't born to someone else, I was born an Admiral's son, and as far as he's concerned, I might as well be a traitor to my people.

 

_The good part is I'll never let them know how I'm different. And the bad part, that they've probably already figured it out._

 

**Squishy/Beir - present.**

 

“I'm guessing the whole lighting up like an angry geth thing isn't part of Palaven's normal appearance.”

 

Lirin should learn to shut his mouth once in a while. He should, but he doesn't. One day it will get him killed. He also should take it as an inclination that he's being inappropriate that Reegar gives him a hard stare. Or I think he does at least. Lirin shrugs and disappears out of the cockpit once more.

 

The transport shuttle we're on jerks unexpectedly and there's a grunt from one of the soldiers sitting in the bay behind us. I'm at the controls. Gabi'Vien, our pilot, is sitting next to me. Her fingers are dancing over the screen before her. Me, I'm just an engineer.

 

“It's crossfire,” Gabi states. Unsurprising, really, given the the amount of fighting going on around us.

 

“I guess it would be too much to ask the turians not to fire at us by accident, _as well_ as the reapers,” Reegar mutters, mostly to himself. I can't help a snort and Gabi chuckles momentarily, before sobering at the task before her.

 

“There's the landing field.” Reegar's leaning over the back of my chair and pointing towards a clearing. I hate it when he does that. I see the turian outpost nearby. “Can you get us down there?”

 

“I think...” Gabi trails off in thought, then nods. “Yes. Beir-”

 

“Kinetic barriers are at 80%,” I interrupt, “they're holding but I wouldn't recommend staying airborne much longer if we can help it.” Squishy's my nickname, these days Gabi's the only person who calls me by my given name, Beir.

 

This shuttle's more durable than most. It's designed for dropping off platoons of marines, not just small squadrons of four or five people. But it's still just a ship. Fire at it enough with reaper lasers, and it'll crash just like any other.

 

“Patch us through to the turians,” Reegar orders.

 

“Of course.” It doesn't take long for me to pull them up, and I figure Gabi's too preoccupied to do it herself given the way the ship's lunging. Reegar curses and grabs hold of one of the support rails on the ceiling.

 

“Sorry,” Gabi mumbles to herself. I bring up the comms to the screen in front of us. The connection is patchy at best, the turian's image on the other end flitting in and out and static filling our ears constantly.

 

“This is Kal'Reegar of the migrant fleet, we are dropping our squad in your landing site as per requested by turian high command.”

 

“Landing granted-... -omms system... damaged... rep-... General Kineka-”

 

“Well,” Reegar starts, “looks like we're going to have to show them how to make a decent comms relay, too.”

 

“You mean as well as saving their asses?” Lirin adds in a shout.

 

Reegar laughs and I find myself wondering, not for the first time, what it might look like.

 

Being a quarian sucks sometimes.

 

**Reegar – nineteen years old.**

 

“Hurry up!” My voice comes out as a hiss at first, but ends in a laugh.

 

“Oh I'm sorry,” Beir replies sarcastically. “This is harder than hacking into the cafeteria menu to get something nice served for dinner!”

 

It's harder because we shouldn't be doing it. But we're teenagers, so what are you going to do? We'll be sent on our pilgrimage in a year or two anyway, might as well get the most out of our time left within the fleet. Beir's bent over a desk, fingers working the terminal before him. Me, I'm just keeping watch because it's all I'm really useful at. I'm not the best with tech like some other quarians are.

 

We're in his fathers cabin, Admiral Han'Gerrel, on his ship. Beir'Gerrel and I both grew up on the Neema. I've known him for as long as I can remember, and we've spent most of our childhood doing or getting into this we shouldn't.

 

Like Admiral Gerrel's private emails, which Beir is trying to right now.

 

“I'm in.”

 

Or, just did.

 

I hurry over to him and stare at the screen. “What's there?”

 

Beir scrolls through his fathers emails. Most of them are pretty boring from the looks, correspondences with his subordinates, organisation of shipments and non-classified military matters, a few personal emails between him and Admiral Rael'Zorah. Beir pauses scrolling and opens one in particular. It's a long email, with numerous replies back and forth between Admiral Gerrel and Admiral Shala'Raan.

 

I'm not sure if it's Beir or me that gasps first. From what I'm reading, Admiral Gerrel's been pushing to take back our homeworld, but Admiral Raan keeps denying him. Nobody in the migrant fleet has even heard rumours that the Admiralty board was so much as contemplating fighting for Rannoch, so-

 

“We shouldn't have read this,” Beir states nervously. “The public shouldn't know about this.”

 

“Why not?” Beir's grown up with politics drilled into his head because of his father. My family's always been strongly military based, we don't question our orders, we just point and shoot.

 

“Because the logistics haven't been considered yet, if the public knew and voted in favour of taking back Rannoch and we didn't have the strength to follow through with it, the Admiral's would lose the publics respect and faith,” Beir explains. “But if they never knew, then it'll just have been speculation between the Admiral's that didn't lead to anything.”

 

“Which is why it was highly classified.”

 

I startle at the new voice joining our conversation and Beir swears softly to himself. It's Admiral Gerrel, and I don't need him to take off his mask to prove how angry he must look. Beir cringes under his father's gaze.

 

“Go to your quarters,” the Admiral commands. His son obeys, but I'll leave it for another time to whine about how much nicer Beir's living arrangements are compared to those of us who's fathers aren't captain of the ship. Either way, I know they'll be consequences for him.

 

Admiral Gerrel stares at me. I know there's more going on here than just his emails. Gerrel never approved of me, at least not in recent years. My family has, for a long time, been in high standing with Gerrel and previous Admiral's of the Heavy Fleet. But we're still just soldiers. When Beir and I were younger, they didn't care we were friends.

 

But recently it's become pretty obvious Gerrel and Admiral Rael'Zorah intended for their children to marry, and as much as I don't particularly approve, it _would_ be politically very strong, if it did happen. The only problem is, Beir turns it down at every opportunity he gets. From what I've gathered, Rael'Zorah's daughter is too consumed with learning about the geth with her father, and Rael stopped caring about the arrangement once he realised his daughter wasn't taking to it, either.

 

Admiral Gerrel is less forgiving of his son, and believes that if not Rael's daughter, then he can find another female for Beir, no matter how hard he resists his father. And I'm just the thorn in Gerrel's side, making people gossip.

 

“Stay away from my son,” the Admiral warns.

 

If I wasn't male, perhaps it wouldn't matter so much.  


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who takes the time to read this!

**Squishy/Beir – present.**

 

“So this is where all you turians come from, is it?” Again, Lirin should learn to shut his mouth.

 

“Yes,” the turian General, Kineka, that we've been led to replies sourly. I don't blame him. This place is in ruins. There's corpses everywhere, some are horrifically disfigured in such a way only someone turned into a reaper pawn could go through, and the entire planet is on _fire_. “This is where we come from, _quarian_.”

 

I'm not sure if the hostility towards us is because of Lirin's idiocy, because of the destruction being wrought on Palaven as we stand here, or because of both of those _and_ the knowledge us quarians have just regained our home world, while the turians and almost every other sentient race in the galaxy's worlds burn.

 

“General,” Reegar interrupts and straightens himself and before my eyes, catching the turians attention before he has the chance to mutilate the quarian in our squad who probably deserves it. “Where do you want us?”

 

General Kineka gives him a hard look for a few seconds, but then seems to accept his sincerity and that we're really here to help. “What are you best at?”

 

We're only a small platoon, but Reegar is leading us. He's surprisingly good at it, but I just hope this time it won't turn into another Haestrom. There's five of us in total and a bunch of supplies stuffed into our shuttle because we weren't sure if we could decontaminate the turians food properly ourselves, so we bought as much of the paste we give to quarians on their pilgrimage as we thought we'd need and could manage.

 

Lirin'Emaun is the colossal prick amongst us, if anyone hadn't figured that out already. But when he's not being a dick, he's a surprisingly good infiltrator, and when you've got a geth pyro sneaking up behind you, you're kind of grateful when he snipes it dead for you before it has a chance to turn you into a quarian flavoured kebab. But then you have to put up with the gloating afterwards.

 

Gabi'Vien, when she's not piloting our shuttles, is usually fortifying defences with turrets or fixing planted machine guns or gunships or basically anything that can do a fuckton of damage but needs someone good at tech to prepare. She's also a bit absent-minded when she's not working and tends to daydream a lot.

 

Trin'Noemi is the only one amongst us with any kind of biotics. Sometimes I wonder if that's what makes him so broody all the time, or if it's just unique to him. He doesn't say much, and when he does, it's usually grumpy. But I don't really mind as long as he's send geth flying _away_ from me. He stares at Gabi a lot too, in... well, you know.

 

Then, there's Reegar. Or, Kal'Reegar, or Kal if you're feeling friendly, but nobody really calls him that unless they don't know him well. Or they know him _really_ well, in, you know, _that_ way. Or perhaps his family. He's the leader of our squad and he can hold his own on the battlefield any day. He can't snipe or use tech like the rest of us, but he has enough other guns to make up for it. And Reegar has _a lot_ of guns.

 

And then there's me.

 

“Depends on what you need, General,” Reegar interrupts my thoughts as he replies to the turian. “Gabi's best getting onto any of your gunships or turrets. Us three,” he gestures at himself, Lirin and Trin, “are better on the front lines. You might want to send Squishy onto anything that needs a decent engineer.”

 

The turian gives Reegar what passes for a frown, and then glances at me. I smile sheepishly under my visor and rub the back of my purple helmet self consciously out of habit.

 

“We're holding this camp for the time being,” the turian replies. “Communications been getting difficult and our comms are getting more temperamental each day, there are times when we're completely cut off from high command and running blind.”

 

Reegar inclines his head toward me. “Squishy can get on it.”

 

The turian nods slowly at my name, just like everyone does. It's not even my actual name, but I've pretty much given up trying to get people to call me by what it really is. These days it feels weird if someone calls me by something other than my nickname. “I'll get one of my men to show you where it is. Other than that, we need this position maintained. Reaper forces are advancing on us stronger each day.”

 

“We'll join your men on the front lines as you need us,” Reegar replies.

 

**Squishy/Beir – nineteen years old.**

 

“How could you be that _stupid_? Hacking into an Admiral's emails!” Father's shouting at me again, but I'm used to it so I just stare at the floor from my position on the end of my bed. “Keelah, help me that I ended up with such an idiot for a son!”

 

His words don't hurt any more, they stopped hurting a long time ago.

 

“You never said these things when mother was still alive,” I mutter offhandedly. My father stops before me and leans in.

 

“Your mother does not need to be disrespected as an excuse for your failures!”

 

“Of course, my failures!” I shout back at him. “Because living up to your expectations is all I could have achieved in my life.”

 

“Beir,” he starts carefully.

 

“Just send me on my pilgrimage,” I interrupt bitterly. “You've wanted tro for months. Then I won't be around to disappoint you any more.”

 

I know he's been pushing for it. Anything to separate me from Reegar and get me off this ship. My father is silent for what feels like several minutes, then straightens.

 

“You begin briefing first thing tomorrow morning.”

 

And then he's gone, without evening saying goodbye. I figure that's what it'll be like when I really leave the flotilla. Why bother farewelling me, when all it would do is make him admit again his embarrassment of a son?

 

**Kal'Reegar – nineteen years old.**

 

As a quarian, you don't really get much chance to be alone. We live in cramped quarters and as much as we try and respect each others privacy, it's not always easy. It's particularly hard when you're a teenager, too, for... well, reasons. There comes a time in your life when you start getting curious about stim suit mods and things of _that_ nature, and there's nothing worse than booting one up, only to remember your room-mate is sleeping half a metre away in the bed next to yours.

 

So when you're confined to your quarters during the day, when most other quarians are out, you kind of make the most of that solitude. My parents are rarely home on the Neema, they're military born and bred like the rest of our family and are always away on some mission or other. One day I'll join them, but for now I share a small room with another psuedo-orphan like me. He's nice enough I guess, but we don't talk much. He has his own friends. The rest of our facilities are all communal with numerous other quarians.

 

I let out a sigh in my bed, knees propped up and one arm supporting my head. With the other, I'm browsing through my omni-tool linked in to my suit. Every company thinks they can make some great addition to stim mods, but really, they're all just the same. I'm about to activate mine when I hear a knock at the door and startle.

 

Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I drag myself out of my bed and open the door. A high ranking military officer is standing before me. She's silent for a few seconds, before asking a polite, “may I come in?”

 

“Yes, ma'am.” When you grow up in a family where every relative is a marine, respecting higher ranking officers comes naturally to you.

 

She nods and steps inside and I close the door after her. “As you can expect,” she starts, “the actions of Beir'Gerrel nar Neema and yourself are not going unpunished.”

 

I swallow but keep silent.

 

“But,” she continues, “you are both still minors, and as such, we cannot treat you as an adult in this circumstance.”

 

“What's happening to Beir?” I've blurted it out before I can stop myself, but it's been nagging at me, mostly because his father.

 

She seems momentarily annoyed by my outburst but lets it slide. “He has been sent on his pilgrimage,” she answers.

 

Relief washes over me briefly, before sadness. Chances are I won't see him until he returns, if even then, and I never saw him since we were separated and were confined to our quarters after the incident with Admiral Gerrel's emails.

 

“As are you.”

 

I blink and cock my head. “Pardon, ma'am?”

 

“Tomorrow transportation will be arranged for your deportation to the Tonbay,” she answers. “You will begin immediate briefing and preparation for your pilgrimage. Your parents will be informed for you.”

 

I cross my arms, think for a few seconds, then nod slowly. “Will you tell them the circumstances?”

 

For both our sakes, I pray they don't. My parents don't need that shame upon them, and I don't want to be the cause of it, either. I swore to them I would follow in their footsteps, and I will, preferably without disappointing them with stupid actions from my youth along the way.

 

She looks at me for a few seconds then shakes her head. “No.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Not this time.”

 

There's a hidden warning in there, and she knows I've noticed it. _Do anything this dumb again, and you'll get more than just a slap on the wrist._


	3. Three

**Squishy/Beir – present.**

 

It's only when I walk into the CIC that I realise just how dire all of this is. It's not even a real combat information room. It's basically just a small tent where they've chucked all their electronics equipment and hoped that one of their engineers can figure out what the heck to do with it all. And the one turian in there that's trying to fix this mess is grossly over tasked and exhausted.

 

“Saul,” the turian escorting me calls out. The engineer in question glances up from behind a machine. “Got a quarian for you.”

 

I'm shoved inside like an unwanted gift and stare around wide eyed at the situation. Saul looks so relieved to have someone helping him I'm vaguely concerned he might start crying or hug me, if turians can cry, I mean. Then I realise I'm here for a reason and I kick myself into working.

 

I approach Saul, glancing down at the machine he's at and already running through solutions in my head. “What's most important?”

 

“The radio communications.” Saul gestures towards a receiver and a bunch of equipment surrounding it. It's so primitive it almost hurts, but I guess that's all they have given the circumstances. “I've been trying to fix it, get it more stable, but I can't.”

 

I kneel down beside it and bring up my omni-tool, and the first major problem is obvious to me quickly. “This is only a transmitter for your comms,” I tell him. “The actual radio server isn't here, without it I-”

 

“The radio tower was overrun by reapers a week ago, but we've still been able to relay messages through it.” Saul's features become pensive. “But they're getting worse everyday, sooner or later it's going to cut out completely. The General won't listen to me, he says we don't have the men to spare to try and get someone up in the tower to fix whatever those reapers did to screw up the servers.”

 

I shrug a little helplessly. “I can see what I can do, but I don't think it'll be more than stretch out your already dodgy connection for a few days at best.”

 

“That's better than nothing,” Saul replies, and he's already disappeared to attend to another machine in desperate need of attention.

 

**Squishy/Beir – pilgrimage.**

 

The turian that owns the ship yard is a grumpy, racist old man. At first I thought he just hated quarians and was horrid to me, but now that I'm seeing him insult this human man, I realise that he's probably just like that to everyone he meets that isn't from one of the council races. I stay quiet, rifling through some of the used ship parts that the turian shop keeper is selling grossly over priced.

 

I wasn't the first quarian to think I would be different from the rest, and that I'd be able to come to the Citadel and not become a vagrant street urchin, and I definitely won't be the last, either. I realise now, after the harsh reality of what the rest of the world is really like, that I'm going to be lucky to afford any kind of small meagre ship part to return home from my pilgrimage with.

 

“What do you mean you don't know anyone that can repair it?” I overhear the human man saying.

 

“What I mean, _human_ ,” the turian emphasises the word like it's physically painful for him to say it, “is that nobody in the galaxy still uses technology that old and far less knows how to _work_ with it.”

 

“It's not that old! The ship's drive core-”

 

“It's one of the first ships your pathetic little race made after they figured out how to achieve FTL travel, like I said, nobody knows how to work with technology that old. The first drive cores your people started making were almost offensive to my peoples engineers.”

 

The human man starts to say something, but doesn't finish it. I hear him stomp away, and without really much of a plan put together, I stumble after him.

 

“Um,” I start and I realise I'm standing in his way.

 

“What do you want, quarian?” the man snaps. I notice he's not wearing alliance military clothes.

 

“Y-you were talking about a ship you wanted repaired-”

 

“It's not getting repaired any more,” he interrupts bitterly. “We'll just have to trash it and build a new one.”

 

“I might be able to help.” I've blurted it out before I think about the consequences.

 

The man raises an eyebrow at me quizzically and crosses his arms. “This is one of the first ships we ever made with an eezo drive core to achieve FTL speeds,” he starts. “Apparently the technology we were using back then was so primitive that nobody knows how to work with it any more, and you think you can help?”

 

“I'm a quarian?” I offer weakly.

 

“We need the drive core replaced with a new one, the old ones not powerful enough for the paces we want to put it through. All the materials are ready, we just can't find anyone who knows how to actually do it.”

 

“I've worked on ships hundreds of years old in the Flotilla,” I counter.

 

“And what do you want? I'm not paying you some exuberant amount of money, you street rat.”

 

I stop for a few seconds to think, then give the man my best hard, serious look, which given I wear a mask, is pretty redundant anyway. “I want the old drive core.”

 

He gives me a curious look for a few seconds, as if considering to reject my offer on principle even though I'm certain only the quarians would be able to find a use for and salvage an old drive core where any other race would extract the eezo from it and throw the rest away. “Fine. Report to docking bay G21, MSV Squishy.”

 

_Squishy._

 

It only takes a couple of seconds to sink in, and I realise that Reegar is never going to let me live this down if he finds out. Beir'Gerrel vas _Squishy_. Who calls a ship something like that, anyway?

 

“The Captain let his daughter name it,” the human says half accusingly to me, as if daring me to actual say how dumb of a name I think it is. “She was four at the time and named it after her pet hamster.”

 

“I see.”

 

_Humans._

 

**Kal'Reegar – several months after his pilgrimage.**

 

As a Reegar, it's sort of tradition to not waste too much time on your pilgrimage. We already know we're going to join the marines, so why bother? Any military ship Captain would be pleased to have one of us serving on their ship, and we prove our worth by showing what competent soldiers we are.

 

I spent my pilgrimage on a small human colony with their militia. I trained with them, showed them some combat tricks I knew, and helped them get a pilot competent enough to fly the A-61 Mantis gunship they had lying around, unused and going to waste. In return, they housed me, gave me enough payment to buy my way back to the fleet, let me have a copy of the blueprints for a prototype weapon mod one of their engineers had been fiddling with, and wished me good luck on my journey.

 

I offered it to the Captain of one of our heavy frigates, he accepted and I was formally instated in the Migrant Fleet marines. I'm mostly trained for ground combat, not space. We only get space combat within the Fleet, usually with mercs that get too confident in themselves and think they can attack us. So, chances are, they'll ship me off as an escort with civilians that have to do business or research outside the flotilla. I'll be more useful on the ground.

 

But in the meantime, there's still a lot to keep you busy. One of which includes maintaining the armoury. It's a pretty boring job, but it's not hard. I've just picked up an assault rifle to assess when I hear the door open and two loud people stomp inside. We maximise our space as much as possible on our ships, and the armoury is as small as I'd dare say is physically possible.

 

“Reegar!” one of them says. It's Siri and Jen, two loud-mouthed men perhaps only a year or two older than me that considered it their duty to adopt me into their craziness when I joined the ship.

 

Not that I mind, they're a good natured sort, if a bit boisterous. They also insist on calling me by my family name, as they do to each other, which has started to rub off on me lately so much so that I introduced myself as Reegar to another crew-mate yesterday, before noting their perplexed look and correcting myself.

 

“You hear the news?” Jen asks as he leans against a weapon bench.

 

I glance up at him, but continue my work. “No, what happened?”

 

“Admiral Gerrel's son came back from his pilgrimage,” Siri answers. My mood lifts and I smile faintly to myself. We haven't been able to communicate since they separated us before we left on our pilgrimages. “Brought back a drive core with him.”

 

“Really?” There's a crash and I realised I've dropped the rifle. It's not uncommon for a quarian to bring back a ship or part of a ship as a gift from their pilgrimage, but they're always from ship yards that have stripped them completely of their expensive drive cores and anything else remotely valuable.

 

“Yep,” Jen continues as I pick the gun up again. “Got it as payment for fixing some human ship. SSV Squishy or something.”

 

“MSV,” Siri corrects.

 

They've started arguing about the difference between merchant class vessels and system alliance warships, but I'm not paying attention. Beir, sneaky little shit, probably thought he could hide this from me.

 

There is _no_ hiding things from Kal'Reegar.  


	4. Four

**Squishy/Beir – present.**

 

I'm swearing at the machine I'm trying to fix and cursing the reapers for making my life this engineering hell when Reegar approaches me.

 

“I'd wager there are more important reasons to hate the reapers than a broken machine,” he says calmly and I almost spin around and hit him. He always sneaks up on me like this, and so help me, one day I'll attack him by accident.

 

I take a few calming breaths and stand up to face him. “What is it?” I start grumpily at first, before grimacing and shaking my head. “I'm sorry-”

 

“It's fine,” Reegar interrupts and I'm torn between wanting to scowl at him for being so insufferably forgiving and the little flutter of affection that just filled me. “I'm just informing you that you're in charge indefinitely until I say otherwise.”

 

I stare at him for a good few seconds, narrow my eyes and cross my arms, before asking a cautious, “are you drunk?” Reegar does not give up his command lightly.

 

I think something flashes over his features, but I can't place what it is with these damn masks. “If I was drunk, we wouldn't be talking right now.”

 

I blink at him. “What's that meant to-”

 

“Never mind,” Reegar interrupts quickly. “You're my second in command, and I'm taking a gunship Gabi repaired to scout the radio tower.”

 

That fact he's put me in charge is unimportant right now given a much more pressing issue. “You remember what happened the last time you flew a gunship,” I state flatly.

 

“That was your fault!”

 

“It was not!” Not really, at least. But Reegar knows that and cocks his head at me.

 

“And the time before that, hmm, Squishy?” I hate it when he gets all self confident and arrogant like that on me. For two reasons, and I'll only mention that one of them is because it makes me want to punch him.

 

I glance away in a huff and mumble a soft, “shut up...”

 

Reegar's hand touches my arm and I look back at him. His posture has softened and he seems more serious now. “I'll be fine.”

 

“I'll keep you to that,” I reply but I can't muster up enough anger in my voice as I want too. “Because if you're not, I'll drag your sorry ass out of whatever reaper ate you just so I can hit you myself.”

 

Reegar chuckles and lets go of me. I breath a sigh of relief and curse my body for fixating so much on the place he just touched, like they're aren't more pressing matters at hand. “I'll hold you to that.”

 

I nod at him and my hand comes up to self consciously fiddle with the wires that connect the back of my helmet to my suit. “Uh, ...stay safe.”

 

I think Reegar smiles and he touches my visor affectionately. So help me, he can probably see me blushing even through it and it's all I can do to mutter a grumpy, “ _idiot_.”

 

**Squishy/Beir – Freedom's Progress.**

 

Prazza's a dick, and I know that better than most because I had the unfortunate experience of having to grow up on the same ship as him. Even on a ship as big as the Neema, once he's decided you're the next target for his bullying, there's no escaping it. I feel sorry for Tali having to try and command him. He gives her shit every chance he gets, and she doesn't deserve it.

 

Shepard, on the other hand, doesn't seem so content on taking his comments as Tali, and looks like he rather might like slugging him in the stomach. I don't blame him. Well, if it is the real him I guess. Tali seems to trust him though, and I don't think even Cerberus would be able to find out the exact nature of Tali's pilgrimage gift that Shepard helped her get, just so they could clone a dead man and screw with her head. But I still don't trust them.

 

Tali, however, I do trust.

 

“We're working for Cerberus now?!” Prazza interrupts my thoughts and Tali breathes a heavy sigh.

 

“No, Prazza,” she replies calmly, but I can hear it's forced. “You're working for me.”

 

Prazza turns to Shepard. “Take her with you, Commander. She's obviously your Cerberus bitch now.”

 

I've had enough of his bullshit for one day, I think. Before really considering what I'm doing I've come between them and am staring him square in the... well, visor. “Prazza, stand down.”

 

“I'm surprised you're defending her,” he replies in a sneer. “She doesn't have a dick like that Reegar you used to follow around like his little pet whore.”

 

And that is all it takes. I've punched him in the gut before I can stop myself. He groans and stumbles, but it doesn't do much other than stagger him and _really_ piss him off. Tali gasps, there's a chuckle from the woman in the tight white Cerberus outfit next to Shepard, and the commander himself mutters, “well, I'm glad _somebody_ finally did that.”

 

There's a half accusation in his voice though, like he's telling me _don't steal my dramatic moments like that again_ or something.

 

“Bosh'tet!” Prazza shouts, but he's still slightly bent over. “You're a rabid animal!”

 

“No, Prazza, he's not,” Tali interrupts. “You can either fight with us, or wait at the ship.” Prazza growls at her. “Or I fire my shotgun at you now.”

 

I really wish he went for the third option.

 

o0o

 

Prazza's quiet after that so he's vaguely more tolerable to be around. He's still pissed though, and stomps on ahead of me and Tali. Just so long as he sticks to the plan, that's all we care about. Tali stops at a control panel in the building to let Shepard through the locked door to the courtyard. At the end of the room, Prazza and his team are glancing out at the YMIR mech standing outside.

 

“Damnit, Veetor's locked this whole place down better than the humans did.”

 

“Let me.” I push her gently out of the way but she doesn't complain. She's spent her time hacking into geth, I've spent my time hacking into things programs sentient creatures make. There's a difference and a knack to getting the hang of each.

 

“Beir, are you-” she starts as I fiddle with the control panel.

 

“I'm fine,” I interrupt. She's too kind for her own good sometimes, even after everything my father tried to do with us. You'd think she might resent me, but she doesn't. She touches my shoulder and I sigh.

 

“They sent me on this mission right after my pilgrimage to keep me away from someone,” I explain to her. The door opens and I step back. “It-”

 

“Prazza!” Tali shouts. I turn around and see him running out into the courtyard, yelling at his team to ignore Tali's orders and get to Veetor before Cerberus can. Tali's frantically trying to patch through to the commander, but there's more important things to do.

 

Prazza, the idiot, will get his whole damn team killed against that YMIR mech with tactics like that. I run after them, and Tali shouts after me to stop, but doesn't follow. I draw my pistol and have already brought my omni-tool up to scan and lock on to the mech.

 

I'm trained as a combat engineer, which, in hindsight, just gave my father even more of an excuse to send me away from the fleet the second he got a chance. If he hadn't, I might have been able to hack into the military database and found a way to contact Reegar. It's not so easy doing that so far away from the fleet and I can only imagine what Reegar might be thinking that I haven't tried, if he still cares. I push the thought out of my head and remind myself to concentrate.

 

The YMIR mech is tearing through Prazza's squad and I can see him lying on the ground at it's feet. He's probably dead already. One of the women in his team is trying to drag herself into cover, but she's injured and the mech's advancing on her. I shoot fire from my omni-tool at it, but the mech doesn't notice because there's three other people attacking it and drawing it's attention.

 

I thank Shepard and the two people with him softly, and don't hesitate when the mech stomps off after them to reach Prazza's dying squad.

 

Only the woman dragging herself into cover is still breathing and I kneel beside her. She's hysterical, probably from the pain but calms a little as I lean over her and do what I can for her. We're all trained in basic first aid in the event of minor suit punctures, but she'll need medical attention within the fleet even if I stabilise her.

 

I hear Shepard fighting the mech for some time, but once it's dead they approach me and so does Tali. I guess they're going to ask if this woman needs their help, but there's not much more they can do for her.

 

“Go get Veetor,” I tell Tali. She hesitates and Shepard looks at her for confirmation, then heads off when she nods at him. “Go,” I urge her, and she rushes after him.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Kal'Reegar – present.**

 

The gunship lands without complaint and I make a note to praise Gabi on her work later. She's damn good at fixing ships like this, when she pays attention and doesn't drift off into one of her fantasy worlds, that is.

 

“Sir,” the turian that was co-piloting for me prompts. 

 

I glance over at him and realise he's holding the door open for me and has already left the ship. I'm not sure exactly why the turian soldiers under General Kineka's command insist on calling me sir, but I've figured it's because I'm the commanding officer of the quarians here so they feel they should give me some kind indication of my authority. I don't mind, but it's taken some getting used to.

 

I nod at him in thanks as I climb out of the gunship. We walk together to the edge of the landing field and I can see my squad waiting for, besides Squishy. I'm vaguely disappointed he's the only one missing but he's probably got better things to do than wait around for me to return from playing recon.

 

“Reegar!” Lirin shouts. “How's it look? We gonna storm the tower or what?”

 

“It's surrounded but I need to talk to the Gen-” I stop mid-speech as there's a gunshot behind me and a searing pain through my right shoulder. I glance down and realise I'm bleeding. I hear myself mumble a disorientated, “ow,” before more shots fire behind me and I hurl myself into cover behind one of the empty kodiak's parked on the landing field.

 

“Reapers in the landing field!” I hear someone shout but I can't pinpoint where exactly and much less want too. My body's already flooding with antibiotics and it's making me a bit dizzy, but I can shake it off.

 

I glance out from behind the shuttle that's covering me, drawing my assault rifle and biting down into my lip at the pain that's stabbing through my shoulder and arm.

 

**Kal'Reegar – Haestrom.**

 

For all the hype they worked up about this mission, it's been pretty much quiet since we arrived. We're deep within geth space, but as far as I'm concerned, we might as well be back with the fleet. Actually, they probably get more action there. But Tali'Zorah's important and she needs a small squadron to protect her, just in case.

 

Unfortunately for her, we can't protect her from Haestrom's sun, and I'm not an engineer either so I can't exactly help her at all really.

 

“Fucking bosh'tet bastard piece of shit.”

 

I wonder if she always swears like this or if she picked up a few new words while she was chasing Saren down all over the galaxy with Shepard. I'm fairly certain some of the words she's said in the last few days are things I heard some of the human colonists say when I was working with them on my pilgrimage.

 

“Ma'am,” I start from where I'm sitting at a table fiddling with my assault rifle, “if I might, perhaps leaving that until you're less agitated might help.”

 

She startles, too consumed in her own tech-blabble to notice I'm there at first, then turns to me. She fidgets and laughs nervously.

 

“Oh, Kal, I, uh... didn't realise you were there. Sorry for my outburst it's just... bosh'tet, I give up!” She slams the pad she was trying to work with down on the table, then cringes and returns to being awkward.

 

“In all honesty, ma'am, I have heard far worse.” I don't add that it's particularly amusing seeing her curse her head off, given how innocent she usually seems the rest of the time.

 

“You haven't heard half the crew on the Normandy,” she mutters. I chuckle at her comment briefly.

 

There's a moment of silence between us but I don't particularly mind it. Tali seems to though, because she's fidgeting and looking around before eventually speaking up again.

 

“So, umm, Kal... is there anyone-”

 

“Ma'am, may I speak freely?” Her eyes look like they might have lightened up at my interruption and I frown momentarily, then shrug it off.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Why do you keep calling me Kal? Nobody does any more and it's... odd.”

 

Her mood deflates and she shrugs, muttering a half irritable, “same reason you keep calling me 'ma'am' I guess.”

 

**Tali'Zorah – Haestrom.**

 

You'd probably be hard pressed to find someone worse at flirting than I am. Maybe a geth would be worse at it. Which makes me only marginally better than a machine. I groan and press my mask into the table before me.

 

Kal has been nothing but polite to me since he was assigned in charge of the marines protecting me. I figure it's only because I'm technically his superior, because he's not like this around his subordinates. Or, not as much. Then again you have to treat them differently when you have people under you like Siri and Jen.

 

But, it also makes Kal virtually impossible to talk to. You try and have a conversation and he politely replies and speaks with you, but never has an opinion unless you give him permission, never says anything that might by any small chance offend you. It's frustrating and sometimes I just want to shake him by his shoulders and shout at him.

 

I'm not sure he even notices me, not in that way at least. Maybe there's something wrong with me? He looks strong and well built from what I can tell with the suit, so he's probably already got a girlfriend waiting back for him at the fleet-

 

“Ah! Miss Tali, ma'am, great conqueror of Sovereign and the geth, right hand quarian to the almighty not-quite-dead-yet Commander Shepard.”

 

I roll my eyes as Jen plomps himself down in a seat beside me. Sure enough, Siri takes up position on the other side. “What have I told you about the ridiculous names,” I mutter but they ignore me.

 

“Miss Tali, ma'am, great conque-”

 

“Enough!” I cut Siri off before he goes on with that stupid title again. I feel Jen's hand on my left shoulder and Siri's on my right and frown.

 

“Ma'am, there is something important we must speak with you about,” Jen starts.

 

“You see,” Siri continues, like they can predict what the other says or something, “we have noticed a certain interest of yours in one squad leader of ours.”

 

They grab my head and turn it until I'm forced to stare at Kal. He's speaking with another one of his squad about something and leaning against a wall. They let go of my head and I quickly glance back down at my hands.

 

“Now, we do not wish you to be offended by this, ma'am,” Jen says.

 

“But we feel it is our duty to inform you that one sir Kal'Reegar is not...” Siri pauses.

 

“How shall we put this?” Jen continues.

 

“Not inclined in such a way that is favourable to your womanly hips,” Siri finishes.

 

I freeze for a few seconds, and then curse under my breath. How could I be that _stupid_ for not realising-

 

“In fact we are to believe that he does have one certain special other in which-”

 

“Wait,” I interrupt whichever one of them was talking, because after a while they kind of just morph into one person. “He's _that_ Reegar?”

 

Ugh! Stupid, stupid, _stupid_!


	6. Six

**Squishy/Beir – present.**

 

If you've only ever met Reegar outside of battle, then you probably wouldn't know this, but he can be the biggest stubborn son-of-a-bitch sometimes. _Especially_ in battle. As if Haestrom wasn't bad enough, now I have to put up with it here on Palaven, too.

 

When Gabi came running to get me to tell me Reegar had been injured and wouldn't leave the landing field, my first immediate thought wasn't how bad it was. Instead, it was cursing the idiot for making his injury worse by continuing to fight, and that the rest of the squad saw it fit to drag _me_ into this too because they couldn't get him to leave themselves.

 

I follow her to the landing field and once we arrive, pause to take in the situation. The reapers are dropping troops into the field, sure, but it isn't _that_ bad. We are pushing them back and it's not a full scale attack. Reegar doesn't even need a reason to be stubborn this time, he's not even making any difference refusing to leave. His aim is sloppy because he's wincing every time he leans out of cover to shoot.

 

“Reegar,” I growl, then duck towards him and take cover behind the shuttle he's slumped against. It's close to the edge of the field, so it's not like he can use that as an excuse for staying, either. When he ignores me, I shout at him. “Reegar!”

 

He glances at me briefly and probably glares. “Damnit Squishy, I don't need you to babysit me!” He tries to fire another round from his assault rifle at a marauder. Lirin kills it before him with a clean headshot.

 

“I'm not babysitting you,” I start but I lean out of cover and shoot my pistol to at least help out against the reapers. “I'm saving your goddamn ass.”

 

Reegar turns to me and points towards the landing field with his gun. “I'm not leaving because of a suit puncture! I can still fight-”

 

“Don't be a hero, Reegar!” He snarls at me, but I push on, standing inches in front of him and holding what part of his gaze I can make out through his visor. He's still a good head taller than me though. “I'm not letting this become another Haestrom, even if I have to drag you out of here myself!”

 

Reegar hesitates, then scoffs at me but I interrupt him again.

 

“You are _not_ almost dying on me again.”

 

That time, I hit a nerve just as I knew it would. Reegar glances down at the ground away from me, then at his gun before he sheaths it. He caves. “Fine,” he whispers, but the memories I brought up don't calm him for long. “But I'm not forgetting this you bastard. I'm not a fucking civilian that cries the second they get a suit puncture!”

 

He can be so _frustrating_ sometimes. “No, you're a fucking idiot who doesn't know when to stand down,” I spit at him and he makes a gesture like he's rolling his eyes.

 

“Lovers tiff again, I see,” Lirin remarks far too loudly for it to have not been intentional. Trin snorts to himself.

 

“Shut up!” It takes me a while to reason Reegar said that at the exact same time as me. I glance at him, blush, and he quickly looks away at almost precisely the same time as me, which doesn't help the situation at all.

 

Thankfully though Reegar, still pissed and irritable, moves to leave under Lirin and Trin's covering fire. He grunts from his arm and I reach out to help him, before he slaps my hand away. “I can still walk, I'm not a fragile glass canon like you.”

 

I feel like punching him, but figure that might not make his injury any _better_ , even if it might make me feel good. “You're such an ass sometimes,” I mutter to myself as I follow him.

 

Reegar laughs then cringes and doubles over momentarily. “Urgh, damn, hurts like a bitch to laugh.”

 

I grin at him and for a moment I think he might be able to see it. “Serves you right.”

 

**Kal'Reegar – Haestrom.**

 

It's not so easy filing a report to the fleet and at the same time trying to ignore Siri and Jen's roundabout and entirely confusing conversation about which out of the non-council races would be the least dangerous and/or most fun to bed. Personally, I stopped paying attention after they brought vorcha into it because it made me squirm and entirely put me off even thinking about stimming for a good few days. Even if most of the time when I stim I think of _him_ , anyway.

 

Thankfully, Tali walks in and gives me a distraction. Zeke, another one of my squad, is behind me pretending that he can cook, throwing the occasional random comment over his shoulder towards Siri and Jen. As Tali approaches me, she seems somewhat mortified or embarrassed about their conversation. Sometimes I pity her, surrounded by men that she has to try and command. Sometimes I find it funny. Most of the time it's the second, but I wouldn't tell her that.

 

“Reegar, you busy?”

 

“Nothing immediate, ma'am.”

 

Tali lets out an exasperated sigh at my insistence on formalities, but doesn't bring it up this time. “A reinforcement and supply ship just landed,” Tali tells me. “Can you go meet them, sort them out?”

 

I glance up at her briefly, then nod. “Of course, ma'am.” Actually, any excuse to get away from these three buffoons under my charge I'll lunge at.

 

She thanks me as I walk towards the exit of our makeshift quarters towards the landing strip outside. In reality, it's really just an empty courtyard that's big enough for our ships to land and take off from. Well, big enough for the one that we brought at least, and the few the fleet has sent since to drop off supplies, but those ones don't stay more than the time necessary to unload. We haven't had any incidents that would require reinforcements yet though, but the Admiralty board and military high command get twitchy about teams like us that get sent into geth controlled space, so they figure giving us more firepower will help them sleep better at night.

 

In truth, we don't really need it. Everything has been quiet here, and I'm expecting it to stay the same. Our work here is valuable or so I've heard, and Tali is important, so wasting more soldiers who'll just end up spending their time twiddling their thumbs is considered acceptable to higher command. Apparently.

 

 

I reach the landing strip and sure enough, docked in there is one of our ships, door already unlatched and a small group of four marines stepping out. I don't recognise any of them, but they beeline for me anyway and I figure they've been briefed that I'm in command, second only to Tali.

 

“Communal rooms behind me,” I say and gesture over my shoulder. “You can sort yourselves out. Don't expect much combat here, so I hope you all brought something to do.”

 

Two of them exchange looks, but they all walk by me and make there way into the building. I move to turn around, when I'm distracted.

 

“The system's sun aggravated our kinetic barriers when we were landing.” It's a familiar voice, eerily so. I turn and see a quarian dressed in a purple, pink and gold enviro-suit striding out of the ship's exit while addressing the pilot beside him. “I'm hoping it's not going to screw around with the rest of the equipment here, or the amount of time I'm going to be spending calibrating and running maintenance-”

 

The engineer cuts himself off mid tech-blabble and stares at me. I'm staring back, I realise, and it's kind of surreal, because deep down I know it's him, but it hasn't really registered in my brain yet.

 

“Kal,” he half whispers, as if he's trying my name out again and seeing how it rolls off his tongue.

 

I'm about to respond with his birth name, my lips part, forming around it, before I hold myself back and cock my head to the side, arms crossed over my chest. “Squishy.”

 

Beir cringes and shakes his head. Under his mask, I imagine him rolling his eyes in half annoyance, half amusement. A gesture to match the soft chuckle that leaves his lips.

 

o0o

 

I really should hand it to her, when she tries, Tali can be surprisingly crafty and mischievous. It didn't really dawn on me at first, until I saw her constant glancing over towards me and Squishy as we entered the communal room. Then I heard the faintest of chuckles to herself, and I realised she'd known he was going to be on that ship all along. Maybe even arranged it herself, because somehow I don't see his father allowing it without some resistance.

 

But it doesn't matter now.

 

I've tried to be professional, but its difficult when you're working with the person you've spent most of your nights thinking about for the last few years.

 

“Reegar, what's the access code?” It didn't take him long either to start calling me like everyone else has. Or maybe he's just doing it as revenge because I keep calling him Squishy.

 

“Mmm?” I blink a couple of times and glance at Squishy. His fingers are poised over the control panel of our comms unit expectantly.

 

“I can hack into it if you want,” he continues. “But I think the Admirals might prefer it if I, you know, get into the system the old fashioned way.”

 

It takes a couple of seconds before my brain decides to co-operate and I regurgitate the access code out automatically.

 

“Thanks.” Squishy's entered the password and has already efficiently opened up the configuration panel and begun murmuring to himself in annoyance as he tries to battle with our malfunctioning equipment.

 

“If it's any consolation,” I offer as I watch him work, “it was a heck of a lot worse last week.”

 

Squishy shudders at the thought. “They briefed me that Haestrom's sun was making all your equipment glitch, but I didn't think it would be this... bad...”

 

He trails off to himself as he concentrates and I picture his brow furrowing. After a few seconds he sighs and hangs his shoulders, turning to face me. “Has Tali been able to clean up the input from our scanners at all?”

 

“I don't think so, she's been too busy researching to fight with our machinery.”

 

“That's why they sent me to help,” Squishy mutters then shakes his head. He was never really a scientist, always an engineer, through and through. He's not here to research with Tali, he's here to fix the machinery so that she _can_ research. “It's probably going to take me days to get this cleaned up to a state of being able to tell what the fuck's being picked up on our scanners.”

 

I nod at him. “Get to it.”

 

“Of course.”

 

I turn to walk away, but his voice interrupts me. “And, ah... Reegar?”

 

I glance back at him in what I hope is a casual, non-chalant way. “Yeah?”

 

“It's good to see you again.”

 

I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. “You too.”

 


	7. Seven

**Squishy/Beir – present.**

 

It's strange how something as simply as seeing another's skin would be considered so trivial by most other races, and yet for us, it's sacred, beautiful, something you only get to experience if you're truly close to someone, or a medical practitioner. Or if the latter isn't available and you're pretending you know anything at all about treating injuries. Which I do, thankfully. It's part of standard training for quarian marines, fixing suit punctures and minor injuries while in the field. But usually its on your own suit, not someone else's.

 

I guess Reegar just has to be stubborn and difficult that his injury is in such an awkward spot that he can't get to himself.

 

I run my fingers over his red suit absent-mindedly at first, before Reegar's slightly gruff, “you doing this or what? Hurry up or I'm going back out into the field,” interrupts my thoughts.

 

I mumble something incoherent to myself and shake my head. It shouldn't be such a big deal. _I_ shouldn't be making such a big deal out of this.

 

I undo the seals on his suit, the one that runs over his shoulder blade and the closest one further down his arm. As the material and fabric of his suit comes away, my breath hitches in my throat at the sight of his skin. The sight of the actual man that has been dancing around me, and I him, for Keelah only knows how many years.

 

He's pale, with a sort of purple tinge. I'm pale too. Maybe there's quarians out there with different skin colours, but I'll never see them.

 

But Reegar's a beautiful kind of pale, clear, milky, and soft, if not for the splatterings of blood on his skin. I remind myself I have to work fast to lessen the chance of infection, and I can see the bullet wound clearly. It's not actually that bad. A lot of the time our injuries aren't, they're just superficial cuts or wounds, but it's the fact that our suits have been compromised that makes it dangerous, and absolutely any puncture, no matter how small, ends up with our bodies being flooded with antibiotics.

 

I can see the bullet round still embedded in Reegar's flesh, and I apologise as I grab a pair of tweezers and yank it out. Reegar grunts and I hear him gritting his teeth, his hands balling into fists, but he puts up with it. I know he's been through worse pain.

 

The emergency first aid kits also come with various injections and treatments to stop infection, so I apply them to the sight of the wound, or straight into his blood stream. Once it's done, I turn to start fixing the seal on his suit again to protect him from the rest of the world once more.

 

Afterwards, Reegar is quiet, and he gives me this soft, thoughtful posture that I lose myself at first and smile unbidden beneath my mask. Keelah, I wish he could see it.

 

**Squishy/Beir – Haestrom.**

 

I should be sleeping. But should and actually doing so are two different things, and even as I yawn, lazily blink and tap with one hand on the console before me, I know I _should_ be sleeping in my bed, not working. This machines been giving me grief for days, though, and maybe it's because I'm stubborn, but I keep thinking if I take the program on a portable device and sit up for another hour in my bed, maybe I'll figure out a way to make it stop being a dick.

 

That was three hours ago. I don't think anyone else is awake that's not taking the graveyard shifts and I can hear Zeke, one my roommates, rolling over in his sleep on the bunk above me. It's not even distracting me, I'm that far into exhaustion.

 

I sigh as the screen before me flashes an angry red _INVALID COMMAND_ at me _again_. I shake my head, stretch, and then rest my chin on my hand as my other slips lazily over the panel controls.

 

I don't notice the person walking past our room, and far less that I left the door open, until a voice interrupts me. “Squishy?”

 

I glance up sleepily and find Reegar pushing his head around the doorframe. “Hey. Evening.” I pause and look at the clock ticking at the bottom of my screen and grimace. “Uh, morning.”

 

Reegar chuckles and welcomes himself into the room. “Why are you still awake?”

 

“Because this programs been giving me hell and I'm stubborn,” I reply grumpily, and then add an annoyed, “hey!” as Reegar settles on the end of my bed and snatches the console swiftly out of my sleepy grasp.

 

“You're not going to fix this any faster if you're half asleep,” Reegar chides and shuts the machine off. I have to admit he's probably right, the bastard.

 

“I just hate not being able to fix it,” I admit angrily.

 

“Mhmm.” There's a brief moment of silence as Reegar places the console down on the table beside my bed.

 

“I'm sorry I haven't contacted you since my pilgrimage.” It's left my lips before I even realise I'm saying it, and I surprise even myself with my words.

 

Reegar sits very still for several seconds, then shakes his head. “That's the dumbest thing you've ever said. Even dumber than getting your nickname.”

 

“I didn't choose my nickname, you wouldn't let me live it down if I remember correctly,” I counter but I can't stop a soft chuckle escaping my lips.

 

Reegar laughs but it's fleeting and he's serious seconds later. He has that intense look about him and I squirm and stare at my hands. “I reasoned they were making it difficult for you to do so. I _hoped_ you were trying.”

 

“I was,” I whisper.

 

“Good.” Reegar reaches for my hand, and I find, not for the first time, wishing there wasn't a mask of plastic between us.

 

“Beir?” Tali's voice causes the both of us to jerk away from each other, like we're just two kids caught hacking into an admiral's emails again and nothing more. She's looking in through the doorway of the room and winces. “Sorry it's so late, but something keeps coming up on our scanners and I wondered if you could... help me...”

 

I can tell she's nervous because she's twisting her fingers and staring at her hands the way I do.

 

“Sure,” I respond. “It's not like I'm getting any sleep as it is.” It's true at least, but I feel a little guilty leaving Reegar. Again.

 

I stand up and make my way towards Tali, but she's already slipped away and is walking down the corridor.

 

“Mind if I steal your bed?” Reegar asks.

 

I blink and shrug my shoulders. “Go for it.”

 

“Thanks. Jen snores like an angry krogan in heat.”

 

I laugh softly and as Reegar moves past me his hand brushes against mine. I'm certain it wasn't accidental, but it's enough to make me stifle a groan and wish I could stay with him, no matter how inappropriate.

 

o0o

 

“So why are you awake, anyway?” I glance briefly up at Tali as my fingers dance across the controls of the machine she's been trying to figure out.

 

“Same reason you are, I imagine.” I just know she's smiling under her mask. We're too similar sometimes, it's almost scary. “Here.”

 

Tali points at the screen in front of us at an intermittent flash on our radars. It only appears briefly for a few seconds, then disappears once more only to return soon after. I frown and try and clean up the scans output, but realise Tali's already tried that, and it hasn't made any difference.

 

“Haestrom's sun is interfering with our scanners,” Tali starts.

 

“Yeah, and pretty much every other bit of equipment we have,” I add in under my breath.

 

“But from what I've managed to pull up on this ship it keeps picking up... it's giving off signals like a geth ship.”

 

 _Geth_. To a quarian, it's enough to make our blood run cold momentarily. “We're in geth controlled space, it wouldn't be unreasonable,” I admit somewhat reluctantly. Though, we haven't seen any signs of them yet and _we_ haven't made any move to attack them either, which is usually a surefire way to get their attention.

 

“That's what I was thinking,” Tali says. “As soon as I saw it I expected the worse, but then I thought... why Haestrom? There's nothing here of value, and I've been watching it, it's just been circling us for hours, it's made no move to attack.”

 

“Maybe it's plotting?”

 

Tali sighs at me but I can hear the slight hint of amusement in her voice. “I've never met a geth that plots before.”

 

“You've never met a geth that you haven't fired your shotgun at before,” I counter. This time she does laugh, and I realise I am too.

 

o0o

 

“Squishy, you've been at that machine all day long. I think the comms are well and truly calibrated and functional by now.”

 

I don't hear Reegar properly at first, and it's only when he ducks his head in front of mine that I startle and acknowledge him. “It's not that,” I start as I push him gently away. He huffs but leans against the wall beside me, inspecting his assault rifle for lack of anything better to do.

 

That same something Tali found has been up showing up on our scanners all day long, and more like it. I keep seeing flickers of them, but they're so intermittent, so brief, that I can't track it long enough to do anything. We mentioned what we found to Reegar the morning after, and he took it as a precaution at least to prepare his men, but-

 

“Geth!”

 

Reegar's leapt into action the very second one of his subordinates runs into the room confirming my suspicions. “How many?”

 

Straight to the point, as always. He's really born to be a soldier, he can adapt that quickly.

 

“I don't know,” Jen replies, and for a change, he's being serious. “A bunch just landed on a drop ship, but-”

 

“Squishy, can you pick up any more incoming?”

 

It takes a few seconds for me to realise he's talking to me, but then I snap into working and try to force the scanner to do what I want it to do, even as it still glitches and sulks. “There's only weak intermittent signals, I was picking them up before but I didn't realise they were-”

 

“It doesn't matter,” Reegar interrupts. I cringe guiltily anyway. “With me, now.”

 

I nod quickly. “Yes, Reegar.”

 

Abandoning the stupid console, I hurry after him and the rest of the soldiers emerging from their quarters.


	8. Eight

**Squishy/Beir – Present.**

 

The squad we're with on Palaven are, despite their faults, good people to be around. They have their moments, mostly Lirin's, but at the end of the day, I trust them with my back and they know the cost all of us are likely to pay before this is over. Some would think that would make us morose or depressing, but it doesn't. Instead, we cling to what normalcy we can get, knowing that it's probably going to be the last few times we'll ever experience it. When you're faced with the possibility of not waking up tomorrow, you make the most of what you have today.

 

Even if that means putting up with Lirin's revolting eating habits. It's not so much that I can see him eating, what with the suits and everything, but he makes a mess of his dextro paste every time. It kind of puts you off eating yourself.

 

Trin's just as unamused as I am and keeps giving Lirin sideways looks and soft noises of contempt. Gabi doesn't really notice, and Reegar's sleeping like a baby behind us from being so drugged up with antibiotics he couldn't stay awake any longer.

 

“Lirin,” Trin eventually grumbles and our infiltrator pauses and stares at him.

 

“What?” Either he doesn't realise what he's doing, or he does and he's being a prick about it. Both are equally plausible, given it's him.

 

Trin sighs and shakes his head. “Never mind.” He moves to turn away, before something catches his eye. He glances at Gabi and murmurs a soft, “stay still.”

 

She mumbles something that I can't make out but obeys, and Trin's hand glows softly blue as he realigns the scarf over her helmet that got shifted when they were fighting the reapers. Who were pushed back a few hours ago, for the time being.

 

Gabi inclines her head up to try and look at what he did, before realising she can't glimpse it without a mirror anyway. She thanks Trin, but the moment is interrupted by Lirin.

 

“How'd you get to be a biotic, anyway?” There's half accusation in his voice and he might be narrowing his eyes at Trin.

 

“How do you think?” Trin doesn't seem overly impressed with Lirin's questioning. When he doesn't reply, the biotic sighs and continues. “My mother was in an eezo accident when she was away from the fleet and pregnant with me.”

 

“Huh. So, is that what makes you so grumpy all-”

 

“She died,” Trin says bluntly and Lirin cuts himself off. “I almost did too.”

 

Lirin stares at him for a good few minutes then, before he inclines his head briefly and looks away. Trin nods but doesn't press the subject, because we all know this is our way of apologising. Things change when you're in a situation like we are, and spoken apologies become less meaningful, insincere, so that a silent look of understanding between two individuals means more.

 

**Squishy/Beir – Haestrom.**

 

Reegar is particularly attached to his mantis fighter ship. Only he can fly it, only he can go within a ten metre radius of it, and only engineers that he trusts can repair and maintain it. And even then they require constant supervision. So the fact a whole army of geth is landing out of the sky from one of their drop ships, right next to his mantis, is causing him to make strangled half noises.

 

“That's my ship!” is the first thing that leaves his mouth.

 

“And that's enough geth to flatten us in less than a second!” Zeke shouts frantically.

 

I notice Reegar's ship is facing a wall. A fragile looking wall that extends higher than the geth drop ship is hovering. I frown, consider for a few minutes, and then bring up my omni tool. I remember the access codes to Reegar's ship from the few times he's given me the _privilege_ to repair it. Reegar startles when he sees his ship flicker to life.

 

“Squishy?” He turns to me, horrified. “What are you doing?!”

 

“Buying us time,” I reply. I can't actually fly the ship remotely like this. In fact, I can't really do much at all. What I can do, is override the engine and kick it into hyperdrive. Which given the ship's facing a wall, would be a pretty dumb idea most of the time. But not now.

 

The ship launches straight into the wall. There's an explosion of smoke, Reegar screams in horror, and the wall crashes down on top of the geth drop ship. The drop ship spins for a few seconds, before smashing into the geth on the ground. Another explosion. They're probably not all dead, but it took out a good chunk of them. I don't have time to assess how many though because Reegar grabs me by the shoulders and slams me into a wall.

 

“You blew up my ship!” he accuses.

 

I retort with an annoyed, “it was kind of necessary.”

 

“Blowing up my ship is never necessary! We could have taken them on!”

 

“Maybe if we had a thanix cannon,” Siri murmurs.

 

“Or a really angry krogan,” Jen offers.

 

“You sound close enough to one when you sleep!” Reegar shouts at him over his shoulder, and then realises he was still pissed at me. “I can't believe you blew my ship up!”

 

“There's more coming,” Zeke points out. I follow his gaze and see more drop ships coming. They aren't as big the one that just blew up, but we're still going to be in for a fight.

 

Reegar sobers and releases me. He takes a moment to pause and collect himself, before he's back into being the hardened marine I'm used to.

 

“Hold-” he starts, but a frantic and patchy call for help flashes over our omni-tools. Tali, she's still in the conservatory where she was researching, and the courtyard in front of it is open and exposed. It wouldn't be hard for the geth to drop troops down there. Reegar curses to himself and then turns to us.

 

“Everybody hold this position, if I see a _single_ geth get through here...” he pauses and there's something akin to a gulp from one of the younger members of his squad. But they all nod at him regardless. Reegar turns to me and inclines his head towards the conservatory. “With me.”

 

o0o

 

“Tali's over there, we need to- Bosh'tet!”

 

The explosion rocks my sense of balance and I stumble before Reegar tackles me to the ground as the characteristic noise of a geth prime landing fills my ears in the clearing ahead of us. Tali's in the building on the other side of it, I hope. My head's aching from where I've been slammed to the floor, but I sit up and crouch behind the ledge which is our only form of cover.

 

Reegar's panting beside me, cursing to himself and we're so thickly immersed in the situation around us that I miss the fact it was him that probably just saved my life.

 

“Can you see-” Reegar tries to glance over the top of our cover but a bullet flies just shy of his head and he thinks better of it. “Shit.”

 

“Give me a moment.” I configure my omni-tool for a few seconds and make it send out a scanning array, giving us both a visual of the area ahead of us and every geth nearby. They're everywhere. I groan. “Great.”

 

“We're getting past them,” Reegar assures me and taps his rifle affectionately. “My job is to protect her.”

 

“It's suicidal. Call for back up from your squad,” I suggest. He shakes his head.

 

“They're holding the geth off so we don't get surrounded.” He's right, but I wish he wasn't, given the circumstances.

 

“What do you want to do?” Bullets are hailing down on us without mercy and Reegar motions to the right. I frown at him and as if he can actually see it, and he answers my question.

 

“Go, I'll cover you.”

 

“But-”

 

“I won't stand a chance getting into that building alone if Tali's locked it, which I know she has, and we both won't make it across without covering fire.” I know he's right, but it doesn't make me feel any less sick. “Besides, I'm expendable.”

 

When Reegar leans out of cover and fires again, I rush towards the ramp up the right side of the clearing, dodging bullets and shooting fire at whatever geth I can target long enough. I slide into cover at the other edge, panting, and I can see a group of geth clustered beneath the ledge I'm on. Just down there, and a little further ahead and then to the right, I know Tali's locked herself inside the conservatory.

 

I can hear Reegar still shooting at geth behind me so I steel myself, send a haphazard incinerate down at the group of geth beneath me, and then chuck a grenade right on top of them. The sparks the electric packed grenade carry ignites the flames and I duck and bury my mask in my hands as there's a deafening explosion of fire.   
  
I wait for a few seconds, then glance at my area scan. There's one geth still struggling on the ground, but I can deal with him easily. I jump down from the ledge, fire a single shot from my pistol into the remaining geth's head, and then hurry towards the entrance to the building.

 

Just as I reach the door and start trying to hack it open – Tali's sealed it well, smart girl – I hear something gigantic land behind me. Horrified, I turn around and find a gigantic colossal geth moving up onto it's feet behind me and priming an attack.

 

Fear rushes through me, so much so I almost miss the voice in my earpiece at first. “Reegar? Beir, are you-”

 

“Open the door,” I yell frantically. “Before I get stomped into quarian mush.”

 

“I'm not going to let...” Reegar's voice cuts off again as our comm fails because of that fucking sun again, or maybe the geth are making it worse too. I can hear crackling white noise from both him and Tali, trying to reach me and each other. I can only pick up some words here and there. _Door. Open. Bosh'tet. Expendable._

 

_Expendable._

 

That one came from Reegar.

 

My blood turns to ice and I glance behind me, towards the colossus. From the entrance to the room behind us, where Reegar had been covering me, a rocket fires, straight at the colossus. It hits the geth square in the neck, but it only recoils angrily, stomping it's unnatural feet on the ground before sending a huge shot of plasma attack straight at where I _know_ Reegar is.

 

“Shit!”

 

It's the last thing I hear before everything goes dead quiet. I stare for a good few moments in disbelief, before someone's hands grab me from behind and yank me away. Tali's opened the door and is dragging me inside before I get the both of us killed when the colossus turns around to finish us off.

 

I yell and resist her, desperately, stupidly needing to rescue him, when I know he's probably dead already.

 

I screamed his name that day brokenly, and Tali just stares in mixed shock and anguish as I bash against the door closed behind us and sink to my knees.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Male Quarian Engineer + incinerate + arc grenade (= fire explosion) + carnifex = multiplayer god :3


	9. Nine

**Kal'Reegar – Present.**

 

I wake up to find my nose congested with something awful and my head aching. I'm cold, even with the blanket someone has put over me, so I guess I'm running a fever. All in all, this is pretty normal given my suit puncture, and a lot better than it could have been. So long as I stay drugged up on medication for a day or so, it'll pass.

 

My throats dry and itchy and it hurts to swallow, but I reason part of that is because I haven't had anything to drink since before I even landed back at camp. But I've slept well, so that will help. And I can still consult with the turian General here, so long as he doesn't mind putting up with a sniffling and croaky quarian.

 

I push myself up onto my feet and wrap the blanket around my shoulders. Until I have to leave this tent, I'm keeping it with me to stay warm. I can hear someone murmuring to themselves and glance over. Squishy's crouched in the corner of the tent with his omni-tool open and working on some machine. I have no idea what he's doing, but he probably doesn't need to be distracted. So I'll make it brief.

 

I walk over to him but he doesn't notice until I put my hand on his shoulder and glance down at him. He looks up and pauses his work. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Awful, but it's from the infection not-” my head starts spinning suddenly and I stagger, before groaning and righting myself.

 

“Maybe you should sit down for a bit,” Squishy chides gently.

 

“No, I need to speak with Kineka.” I press a hand against my visor in vain hope that it might stop my head from throbbing.

 

“He's going to have to send a team to take back the radio tower,” Squishy murmurs. “We can't fix it on this end.”

 

I thought as much, but given how suicidal taking the tower back would be from what I saw of it... I sigh and shrug my shoulders. It still has to be done. I can't see Kineka sending his own men when he seems to think it's so unimportant, but we're _technically_ not under his command.

 

“I'll speak for you from an engineering perspective about the comm's relay,” Squishy interrupts my thoughts. “But I doubt it will do much. Saul will probably support you, though, that might mean more.”

 

I remember him mentioning Saul was the turian engineer he'd been working with. It might not be much of a help, but I'll take what I can get. I nod at him and thank him briefly. “I should go talk to Kineka.”

 

Squishy doesn't reply but inclines his head towards me, and returns to his work. There's a comfortable silence for a few seconds, before I stagger out of the tent and groan again as the noise outside makes my head throb again.

 

**Kal'Reegar – Haestrom.**

 

Shepard is imposing, larger than life, and the kind of man who inspires loyalty and suicidal tendencies the moment he walks into a room. Or the urge to shut him up, if you're not into that whole Reaper theory he's always going on about. To be honest, I don't really have the time right now to give a damn either way. I'm just glad he's here.

 

I guess it's a testimony to his legendary status that he can appear at the worst possible times and right when you really need someone with a bunch of guns help. I heard the explosion and screams over our patchy comms. I know the rest of my squad isn't alive any more if they're not here with Shepard.

 

There's a turian with him who looks like one side of his face got on the wrong end of an angry geth rocket trooper. I remember Tali talking about a turian she travelled with while on the Normandy more than once. She used to go all giggly, stare down at her fingers as she wound them together and I swear, even with the mask, her blush was almost visible. I think she called him Garrus. He looks like a nice enough guy, even with half the side of his face blown off.

 

And also with them is- I startle as Shepard crouches next to me in cover. “Commander,” I start in a hiss. “You've got a geth right behind you!”

 

Shepard frowns at me for a second as if he's not entirely sure what I mean, and then glances at the geth next to him holding a sniper rifle. Recognition dawns on his face and he gives me a reassuring, “he's with us.”

 

The geth turns to face me and I flinch, fingers reaching for the trigger on my rocket launcher out of habit. “We will fight for Shepard Commander against the geth.”

 

“Normally that wouldn't sit with me,” I start but note Shepard's stern look and reconsider. “But I'll let it slide this time.” _And you can be fucking sure I'll be keeping my eye on him,_ I add to myself.

 

There's shot from the courtyard in front of us and I remember the situation. Turning to Shepard, I explain what I can in the shortest way possible and hope we can sort this out together.

 

o0o

 

They're talking about something as I hobble like a cripple up the corridor, and I pick up enough of it that I realise Tali's probably going to leave with Shepard and join him again. I'm not surprised, after all, that's why Shepard came here. And Shepard always gets what he wants from what I've heard, even if that means banging his head against a wall and screaming loud enough that people eventually cave in. Or headbutting krogan into submission. And he did kill the colossus and forced me to stand down against my wishes, which probably is the only reason I'm still alive right now, so I guess it would be rude to try and stop him taking Tali.

 

My arm's curled around my abdomen but it's not really making much of a difference, I'm still in pain, and my mind is going a little delusional from all the antibiotics coursing through my veins. But I can walk, and so help me, I'm not going to die today because of a bleeding suit puncture.

 

I can see Squishy ahead, too. He looks miserable, like he's not even paying any attention to the conversation going on because his thoughts are somewhere else entirely. None of them have seen me yet.

 

“I lost my entire crew except for Beir for this data,” Tali says bitterly. “It better be worth it.”

 

“Not just Squishy,” I manage to croak out, and everyone's attention snaps to me.

 

Shepard's expression doesn't really change, although he does give Tali a brief look that speaks volumes of _well, whoops, sorry I forgot to mention he was still alive_. I realise then that they thought I was dead, perhaps even before Shepard came, since the moment Squishy saw me take that colossus' attack and our radio contact cut off.

 

I barely have time to process any of it between the scream of, “Bosh'tet!” from Squishy and the punch landing square along my jawline. A groan leaves my lips and I curse him. As if I wasn't aching enough the way it was, without that adding to it.

 

He's shaking me now. “I swear, if you ever do something that suicidal, that stupid again I-”

 

But I don't hear the rest, because between his fists pounding against my chest in anger, I'm staring at Tali. And I'm smiling, because I can practically see the look that she's giving the turian under her mask, and the look he's giving her back, and I know that I was completely right.

 

**Squishy/Beir – Haestrom.**

 

After Shepard, Tali, the turian and the geth with them (the Commander was smart enough to have the geth wait outside when he came into the conservatory to speak with Tali, but we both almost shot it when we saw it afterwards) left, it took a while to get through to high command. But we managed it eventually and relayed what had happened. They seemed remorseful that nearly our entire squad had died, but it didn't sit right and felt as if they were only expressing their condolences because they felt obliged to.

 

But either way, it doesn't matter. We decided on leaving the next morning, given Reegar's injury and while he slumped down in a corner and treated himself, I packed up what supplies and equipment we were taking with us and gave our ship a brief look over. Reegar said he didn't think it had been damaged by the geth, and he was right, apart from some superficial scratches here and there. It'll be strange trying to fly it with just two people, but we should be able to manage so long as we're not attacked.

 

I'm just about finished disentangling some wires from one of our machines in the communal rooms when someone grabs me by the shoulders. There's a flash of red enviro-suit and I realise it's Reegar before he's pushed me into the wall and looming over me. I frown at him before my eyes widen in surprise as his hand trails down the front of my suit and tries to grope me.

 

“Reegar!” I clasp my hands to his shoulders and push him away. It's not particularly difficult and he staggers. “You..” I sigh as recognition dawns. “You're delirious,” I state bluntly.

 

He tries to resist me half-heartedly. “Stop moving, you're... making difficult... ugh...” He's swaying and I'm surprised he's managing to stay awake at all. The medications he would have taken make you sleepy and most people collapse into a near comatose like state soon afterwards.

 

Reegar almost falls over and I grab and lower him to the ground. I realise now he's half asleep already. He rolls over onto his side and mumbles something I can't make out and I roll my eyes at him. Idiot fell asleep on the wires I was trying to pack. Now I'll have to wait till morning.

 

I figure that's a better excuse for my annoyance than some of his other choice actions.

 


	10. Ten

**Kal'Reegar – Present.**

 

I've never been to a war council like this before, so I'm not entirely sure how to approach it. It's not my planet that we're fighting for, but it's my people that are risking their lives for it. So I don't know where exactly that puts me in authority with the General. He's not my commanding officer, but we volunteered to be here to help. I've stayed quiet for most of the meeting, arms crossed over my chest and only rarely mentioning tactical advise that I thought the turians hadn't considered themselves.

 

Their tactics mostly revolve around overpowering the enemy until they're destroyed. When you're a quarian, that isn't an option, and your tactics become much more strategy and survival based. But in a war like this, any familiar strategies were blown out the window long ago. The only thing we can do now is take each situation as it comes.

 

General Kineka turns to the engineer Squishy mentioned, Vale, who's been silent the entire time. He doesn't know anything about how we might approach taking back the radio tower, so there's been nothing for him to add, yet. “How long will our communications hold for?”

 

Vale gives what passes for a turian frown and it takes him several seconds to reply. “I don't know, General. They could fail any minute, they could last for days. But once they stop working, I doubt there's anything we can do to bring them back.”

 

Kineka seems to consider this for a few seconds, and then sighs. “Don't push for the radio tower yet, see how long we can hold out for now.”

 

“General, if I might,” I start and he looks at me with a mild annoyance, but lets me continue. “Let my men and I take it.”

 

He shakes his head. “I won't send you all to your deaths-”

 

“With all due respect, none of us should be alive anyway.” Not after Rannoch.

 

“And that doesn't mean you can throw your lives away now,” Kineka replies, and this time he's angrier, more direct. “Until I have a guarantee you're actually going to stand a chance at succeeding or we have no other option, _nobody_ leaves for the tower.”

 

I realise then that he's not disagreeing with my suggestion because he thinks we're not capable enough to fix it, he's doing it because he knows I can't promise we would be able to. Even if we could, we might not be able to hold the reapers off long enough to do it, or we might never make it there in the first place. Or we might fix it, only to be overwhelmed by the reapers and have it ruined again.

 

He's not disagreeing because he's short sighted, he's disagreeing because it would be a waste of our lives. I knew when I signed up for this I was willing, and probably would, sacrifice my life the moment it was required. But I can't make that decision for my men.

 

The time will come soon when there's no other option, and when it does, I pray my squad truly understands what they're being asked to do.

 

**Squishy/Beir – Tali'Zorah's trial.**

 

When I heard what they were accusing Tali of, words could not begin to describe how angry I was. I couldn't even unleash it on my father, either, because he strongly opposed it, too. But when I started hearing the whispers going on between the admiral's, and when I realised there was more going on here than Tali's poorly accused treason, it made me sick. Even more so that my father would play along with these politics. He maintains the position that he doesn't agree with exiling the daughter of his closest friend, but he has no issues using this trial to push forward his stance on the possibility of taking back Rannoch.

 

I wish I never saw those emails years ago. Sometimes, ignorance can be bliss.

 

There's a few other people waiting around the trial room when the Normandy docks. They're mostly people who've worked with Tali and support her, a few people who are nosey, some that want to see her exiled, and the admiral's. I can practically feel my father's eyes boring into the back of my head as I stand on the other side of the room, speaking with Reegar, but I don't care enough at the moment. Shepard hasn't come up to us, but he seems to be talking to everyone he knows to assess the situation, so I figure he'll come over here eventually.

 

“It's all bullshit,” Reegar murmurs. He knows as much as I do this is just a facade for the arguing between the admiral's about taking back Rannoch, and Tali's stuck in the middle of it.

 

“I know.” Reegar's staring hard at Admiral Koris and I wonder if he's considering how much he'd be punished for giving him a well deserved punch. “What do you think we should do?”

 

Reegar turns to me and his posture softens. “About the homeworld?” I nod, he sighs. “I'll do whatever they tell me to.” He sounds unsure, as if he's not entirely pleased with what that might entail.

 

“I didn't ask what your military side thinks,” I reply. “I asked what _you_ think.”

 

Reegar gives a small chuckle then shrugs. “I don't know, I'd want more than anything to have the homeworld back, but... I don't think we could ever do it without sacrificing a lot, probably too much.”

 

“What point is there taking back Rannoch if we kill half our people trying to do it,” I murmur. Reegar nods and I know he's of the same opinion.

 

There's a moment of understanding and silence between us, before someone approaches. I smile faintly as I realise it's Veetor and Reegar greets him, before politely excusing himself. “Veetor,” I start gently. “How are you?”

 

He's as nervous as ever, but he's doing much better than he was. I'm glad for him.

 

**Kal'Reegar – Tali'Zorah's trial.**

 

There comes a time every now and then when you give up on being polite to your superiors and throw all subordination out the window. Today is one of those times. I wasn't really intending on taking part in the trial, but Shepard can be pretty inspirational sometimes, and I've put up with enough of the admiral's political crap for one day.

 

I've yelled at them and accused them of not doing anywhere near as much for the fleet, combined, as Tali has by herself. They look surprised. They probably didn't expect this from a Reegar, we have a reputation for not getting involved in politics, but sometimes you have to take a stand I guess.

 

Admiral Gerrel is the one that replies first, and when he speaks I know his voice is tinged with distaste for other reasons than my outburst. “Kal'Reegar, stand down.”

 

“No, he's right.” Words cannot describe the noise that leaves Gerrel's mouth when Squishy stands with me. “You sit around, so focused on arguing and being stubborn that you never come to a solution, then bring someone else into your disagreements as a surrogate for your dysfunctional excuse for politics. This is as much about Tali as it is about me.”

 

I imagine Gerrel's face has never seen as much anger is it might be today. “Beir,” he starts, but he doesn't get a chance to continue.

 

“I will not stand down,” Squishy's voice is closer to a growl now. “You try to control everyone else's lives and get so caught up in your own opinions that you all forget the reason any of you became Admiral's in the first place.” The rest of them glance at each other, but his father's gaze is unwavering. “And your people suffer as a result of it.”

 

“Korin,” Gerrel starts and a marine standing nearby snaps to attention. “Would you escort my son out and to the private quarters of my ship.” The marine hesitates for a moment, but then complies. “I think he forgets sometimes there is only one failure to their people in this room.”

 

Squishy scoffs and seems to dare the marine to try, but he does and he's stronger than Squishy. I move to help him as another marine joins Korin, but someone's arm grabs my shoulder and I turn to stare at Shepard.

 

“Kal, please,” Tali whispers so softly I'm not sure if I'm hearing things. “Don't exile yourself because of this.” _Because of me,_ she might as well have added.

 

I relax but if they think I'll drop this today, then they're wrong. When I turn around, Squishy's already gone. 


	11. Eleven

**Tali'Zorah, Present.** **(Normandy)**

 

“ _You take care of her.”_

 

I hear what Shepard's saying, but when you're into your I-don't-remember-what-number glass of triple filtered turian brandy (introduced via an emergency _induction port_ , thank you Shepard, bosh'tet wouldn't know a straw if it came up and hit him), you hear what people say, but only if you're really _really_ lucky does it even halfway register in your brain.

 

“Thanks.” I think that's Garrus. He sounds a mixture of unimpressed and something I'll think about later when I'm not hiccuping brandy flavoured hiccups every few seconds. “Tali,” he starts, “I think it's time you went to bed.”

 

“No-... ooo.” I frown because the words that leave my mouth aren't what I meant them to be. “I think... I'll stay here, thank you very much Mister Space Cat.”

 

“Mister Space Cat?” Garrus chuckles and he's leaning over the other side of the bar and staring at me, but bosh'tet I wish he would stop swaying like this it's making me dizzy.

 

“Yes, your mouth is like...” I pause for a few seconds. “A cat, and you're from space so... so...” I can't finish the sentence and instead use my hands to demonstrate cat paws, but it makes my strained balance falter and I almost topple off my chair. If not for my space cat steadying me. “Ahh, bosh'tet,” is the best response I can think of.

 

“Time for bed,” Garrus chides, but I don't resist when he helps me to my feet and starts escorting me out of the room.

 

“You're all bastards.” I hiccup to finish the sentence.

 

“Thank you,” Garrus says and he can't hide his amusement.

 

“Like Kal and that Squishy.” I wave my hand around in the air to make myself seem important. “They should just hurry up and fuck already. Bastards!”

 

“Mhmm.”

 

“I'm sorry I flirted with him,” I bawl suddenly, and a mixture of regret and other emotions I've kept suppressed bubble up in me. “I didn't forget about you, I just didn't think I'd see you again after the Normandy...”

 

Garrus stills and coughs awkwardly. I wail something incomprehensible and he pats my back. “I think you should, ah, sleep this off, Tali. Then...” He leaves it hanging but never continues, and I'm too dizzy right now to protest.

 

**Kal'Reegar – Preparation for taking back Rannoch.**

 

After Tali's trial, they tried to separate us. They stuck me on patrol and garrisoning of one of our bigger ships of the military sector, gave me some excuse of _we need all our soldiers ready for when we take back the homeworld_. So then it was official, we are going to do this. I'm not sure how to feel about it really.

 

Admiral Gerrel kept Squishy locked away, refusing to let him do anything useful in the war effort out of spite.

 

But I think he forgets the time his son hacked into his emails when he was 19, or he thinks what petty upgrades they've made since then will keep Squishy out. It doesn't, of course, and it's only a matter of hours before he's sending me messages that not even the admirals themselves realise are being sent.

 

I can only smile when I reply to them, but then quickly wipe the look off my face before just in case someone might suspect under my mask I'm happy.

 

o0o

 

They tell me I'm supposed to be flying a mantis gunship when we push to take back the homeworld, supporting the ground troops. I'm a bit annoyed, because I figure most of this battle will be fought in space surrounding Rannoch, instead. Getting a foothold on the homeworlds soil seems unlikely. But either way, I get a new ship this time. Hopefully this one won't get blown to smithereens. When they give me my assignment, the first thing I ask, no, demand of my officer, is who my co-pilot will be.

 

Squishy, of course. I wouldn't trust anyone else at my back like him. He's not the best, he's definitely not brilliant at it, but he knows me better than I know myself, and I need someone who I can guarantee won't second guess me, someone who I barely need to communicate to verbally to get my message across. We work like we're the same person. Like we've known each other all our lives.

 

Which, in retrospect, we have.

 

Of course, my officer sternly says that wouldn't be appropriate, that I need to find someone more qualified to be my co-pilot. And he tries, for a few days, to introduce me to people in the hopes I'll pick them instead.

 

I'm dismissive each time, just giving him a cool, calm no, and a look which speaks more volumes than I could ever voice.

 

_If you want me to have two flying fucks chance of doing this, you'll give me the co-pilot I need._

 

And eventually, a sneaky newly appointed Admiral steps in, and they cave.

 

**Squishy/Beir – Preparation for taking back Rannoch.**

 

My father has done a surprisingly good job of stopping me from learning anything about what's going on in regards to our preparations for assaulting the geth. All that I do know has mostly come from his emails and what contact I've made with Reegar. The rest of the time, my father just keeps me locked up in his rooms and leaves me to waste my time away alone.

 

He's not so careful today, though, and I noticed how on edge and excited he's seemed ever since he got up this morning. Something big is happening soon, and he's so worked up over it he doesn't care enough to have a conversation with Admiral Raan inside his quarters. He's speaking frantically and I slip into a corner in the room and listen.

 

“The arming of the liveships is complete, Raan, as soon as Xen is ready-”

 

“You armed the _liveships_?” My own disbelief at what he's said completely outweighs better reason at revealing I'm eavesdropping.

 

My father stills, mutters and annoyed farewell to Raan, and turns to face me. “Yes, Beir. Sacrifices must be made-”

 

“No!” I interrupt. “What good is taking back the homeworld if our civilians die doing it? We fight _for_ them, not to use them as cannon fodder!”

 

“You do not know the first thing about war, far less what _sacrifices_ must be made during them!” He snarls at me and at that moment, I've had enough.

 

I don't even reply, instead I give him an incredulous look, sadly shake my head and turn on my heel.

 

“Beir,” he warns, but I ignore him and force the door to his quarters open with my omni-tool.

 

As I leave, I mutter to him that I will have no part in his massacre, before almost running over the marine outside who seems rather surprised to see me, but then ushers me away quickly.

 

o0o

 

“Remind me again why I'm your co-pilot,” I mutter offhandedly, because apparently now I know how to fly mantis gunships.

 

Reegar doesn't even respond, he just turns towards me, probably gives me a hard stare, and I cave in. Somewhat cave in, at least.

 

“This is different from flying shuttles,” I mumble to myself.

 

“Just think of it as a shuttle and you'll be fine,” Reegar assures me. “A shuttle with a giant gun on it.”

 

“I tell you what,” I reply as my fingers dance over the ships control panel before me, “you deal with the guns, I'll deal with keeping us flying and-” I pause, glare at the panel and then send an accusing look at Reegar. “When was this thing last booked into maintenance?”

 

“I don't know, she flies fine, there's nothing wrong with her,” Reegar says defensively.

 

“Fuck me, the things that would happen to this fleet without engineers.”

 

I think I hear Reegar 'mmmm' to himself as I climb out of my seat and head to the back of the ship. So help me, if I'm not going to be doing anything useful as a co-pilot, then I might as well make sure this damn thing doesn't fall out of the sky because someone forgot to check the drive core's functionality beforehand.  


	12. Twelve

**Squishy/Beir – Present.**

 

When I walked into the CIC that morning, I really only expected to be in for another day of frustrating and largely unrewarding engineering. Given the situation we're all in, that was really quite naïve of a thought.

 

As I entered the room, the first thing I can see is Saul crouched on the ground, staring dumbfoundedly at the radio comms. He's transfixed, and I'm reasoning not for a good reason. Slowly, I walk over and crouch next to him.

 

“S-” I don't get the chance to say his name properly.

 

“It's gone,” he states flatly. “It's completely gone.”

 

“The comms?” It's a rhetorical question, but part of me hopes that maybe he's talking about something else instead.

 

“Yes.” Saul looks up at me and even if he's a turian, I can tell his features are haunted. “We can't contact high command. We're cut off. We've failed our people, _I've_ failed-”

 

“You haven't failed anyone,” I interrupt with a surprising sternness to my voice.

 

He pauses for a second, then speaks. “How would you know?”

 

“I've spent a good part of my life being told I've failed my people,” I reply and my voice wavers momentarily. “After a while you just... realise that it doesn't matter what your superiors say and stop caring if they judge you.”

 

There would be people who would judge him, but only out of fear. “Until every person in the galaxy is gone,” I continue softly, “nobody has failed, and the reapers have _not_ won.”

 

I wish I could have said that about Rannoch. We won, but part of me wonders if the sacrifice was worth it. Not that I would lightly give up the homeworld again, sometimes I think the lives we lost was too great.

 

And this war has only been worse.

 

Saul sighs and moves to stand up. “I have to tell the General, excuse me.”

 

I nod at him and watch him leave. Then, I realise that this might be one the last times I see him. If the General sends a team to take back the radio tower, it'll be Reegar's, and we all knew we probably wouldn't make it back alive from there if we do go.

 

**Kal'Reegar – In space around Rannoch.**

 

I'll admit, Xen's invention has slightly changed my opinion on taking back the homeworld. With the geth immobilised, we stood at much greater odds. Until they went to the reapers, of course, and we were done for. And, yet again, that only lasted as long as it took Shepard to turn up. One of these days I'll have to name one of my children after him. Or maybe a pet, given I probably won't have any children of my own.

 

But he isn't able to work miracles as sometimes I think he can, even if he gets pretty damn close. Up until now, Squishy and I had been grounded (or, perhaps, ship bound) in a hangar bay waiting deployment. It had been the plan that we would fly the gunship when troops were put on Rannoch's surface, but the geth's reaper upgrades firmly blew that plan away.

 

I have no idea what Shepard's doing at the moment because even Squishy hasn't managed to hack into the Normandy's comms (he muttered something about an AI flushing his omni-tool with large volumes of obscene material when he tried) but I do know there's something going on. Not in the least that from what comms we _do_ have access to, we heard that Admiral Koris' ship just crashed into Rannoch's surface.

 

I don't know the details, but no ones making an effort to rescue him or his crew. I wouldn't blame them, it'd be pretty suicidal, but to lose the Admiral of the civilian fleet, regardless of what opinion I might have of him (albeit it has improved since the trial given his position on the war) losing him would cost more lives. His fleet needs a leader and someone to stand behind.

 

Squishy glances across at me from where he's sitting in the co-pilot's seat. We're not far from the surface, we could probably get there with the mantis, and one gunship might not be noticed like a whole platoon deploying would, especially when there's too much else distracting everyone in the space-fight going on.

 

Squishy glances at the sealed door to the bay out of the gunship's front windscreen. We know each other too well. I smile faintly and nod at him. “Do it.”

 

He's hacked through the override in seconds and we barely hear the shouts of protest over the local comms as our ship flies out.

 

The view outside is startling, but neither of us has time to take it in. We're small and hard to target, but it doesn't mean we can be reckless. “Track Koris,” I tell Squishy as I concentrate on keeping the gunship out of enemy fire in approach to Rannoch's surface.

 

It takes a few moments, but a red dot starts beeping on the map in the corner of my control screen. I head towards it. Now that we're skimming along Rannoch's surface (relatively speaking that is), we're safe from the space-fight, but there's plenty of geth on the ground still wanting to kill us. Koris seems too far away, I wish he'd crashed closer, but this gunship gives as good as it gets.

 

“Take control of flying,” I tell Squishy. He murmurs his acknowledgement and there's a brief period of bumpy transition until he's comfortable and settled. I take control of the gun controls and the noise of the ship's machine gun firing fills our ears.

 

We're getting closer to Koris' position, killing what geth that attack us in our path and for a moment it looks like we might be good, until Squishy yells a curse and I glance at him in worry. Then, the ship rocks violently and I realise we've been hit by something big. Maybe an AA gun, but I don't have time to analyse.

 

“The drive cores failing!” Squishy shouts and there's the sickening kind of feeling from the ship losing altitude. We're not far from Rannoch's surface, but we're high enough in the air that crashing at this height would kill us both.

 

“Take control of the ship,” Squishy tells me and I don't have time to argue because he's climbed out of his seat and disappeared behind me.

 

“Squishy!” I shout frantically, half because I've just been thrust into trying to keep a failing ship in flight and half because I have no idea where he's gone.

 

There's some kind of banging and groaning noise behind me and there's a slight but welcome decrease in the speed of our plummeting. I manage to pull the ship level briefly, but it's a fleeting win because it falls a moment later again.

 

The last thing I hear before the crash is Admiral Gerrell shouting for his son over the comms in horror, and the realisation he'd been tracking us the whole time.

 

**Squishy/Beir – Rannoch.**

 

Crash landing in a ship is an unusual feeling to experience. Probably because most people don't survive long enough to fully embrace it. Granted, this wasn't really a proper crash landing. It was more an emergency landing that could have used a great deal more bracing than it had. All I did was slow down the speed of our descent, but it's probably the reason I'm even able to think right now instead of being dead. The drive cores making an unhealthy noise, I realise, and I'm also in a fair amount of pain.

 

I groan as I push myself up onto my elbows and I'm grateful that I can at least move my body. I hope the pain is just bruising and not a major suit puncture or fractured bone. But I can't really stop to assess that now, given that I'm fairly certain the ship's engine is about to blow up.

 

“Reegar?” I try, and my voice is croaky. “Reegar, get up!”

 

“I would,” I hear him retort, but I can't see him, “if not for the immobilising pain from crash landing you bosh-”

 

“This whole ships going to blow!” I interrupt frantically.

 

“What?!”

 

“I bypassed the drive core to brace our landing by redirecting non-vital energy to keep the ship in flight-”

 

“Squishy! Enough of the tech crap!”

 

“It put too much strain on the ship, it's going to blow up!”

 

This time, I hear him move, thankfully. “Then why didn't you say that?!”

 

“I did, you jackass!”

 

“Just move it!” Reegar actually grabs me by my suit and yanks me backwards. We both only just manage to crawl our way out of the ship's wreckage before the explosion sends us flying. We roll to a messy stop, but it could be a lot worse. I'm still in pain, but feeling the heat from the fire from this distance is considerably preferable to being inside the inferno.

 

I glance over at Reegar and he's propped himself up on one arm. I sit up and taking a deep breath, before Reegar smacks me over the back of my head.

 

“Stop blowing up my ships!”

 

I don't even being to consider retorting, because trickling through my fingers is sand and pebbles.

 

 _Rannoch_.   


	13. Thirteen

**Squishy/Beir – Present.**

 

Reegar ordered us to a meeting the next morning. I knew why, but my stomach still lurched a little with apprehension. The rest of our squad caught on quickly. Reegar gave us a soft, short speech, stating he didn't expect us to willing give our lives, even if he knew all of us had already decided we would.

 

After, he apologised for bringing us into this position and briefed us on what was going to happen. Our squad saluted him and eventually trickled out, leaving me alone with him.

 

I glance over at Reegar, but he looks away and his shoulders are stiff, his posture betraying his pent up frustration and perhaps guilt.

 

“Reegar,” I start and reach to touch his shoulder. He ducks away before my hand touches his suit, but turns to face me.

 

“You should go get ready,” he says. For a brief moment, something flickers through his eyes under his mask, but I can't make it out with the visors separating us. He looks away again, and as I leave, I realise it's the same emotion running through me.

 

 _Regret_.

 

There's too much left unsaid between us, and now it's probably too late.

 

**Kal'Reegar – Rannoch.**

 

When we crash landed on the homeworld, we only had a few minutes of arguing about Squishy blowing up my plane before the geth found us, naturally. Squishy was still trying to pin this entire situation on me somehow, when I had to practically force him into cover before he got shot. A bullet flies shy over our heads and Squishy cringes.

 

“Now what?” he mutters.

 

I'm about to retort that I couldn't possibly know because I was never meant to be in this situation anyway, but hold it back. I take a moment to assess the situation, then glance over the top of the rock acting as our cover. “Hold our position.”

 

“Until when?” Squishy glances at me but he's holding his pistol ready for battle. “Until Shepard comes and saves us? Until the geth kill everyone?”

 

I pause and know I can't really answer his question completely, then sigh. I open my mouth to reply, but Squishy interrupts me quietly. “I'm sorry.”

 

“We'll get through it,” I reassure him as I draw my weapon and ready myself. “Maybe you can try and get in contact with the fleet.”

 

Squishy nods and his omni-tool flashes to life, scanning the comms built into it and trying to establish contact. He mutters to himself in annoyance and I figure the geth are interrupting the signals being broadcast.

 

“How long is it going to take?” I ask when I'm back in cover after killing a geth.

 

“I don't know,” he replies then looks at me. “If you need my help-”

 

“Not yet,” I interrupt. “I can hold them for now.”

 

Squishy nods and busies himself trying to get in contact. The geth aren't pushing on us too hard yet, but it's only because most of the fight is in space right now and not on the ground. It could change, and I just pray Squishy can send a call for extraction before it's too late.

 

**Squishy/Beir – Rannoch.**

 

When I hear what Shepard's done to the geth, I'm a mixture of surprised and worried. I'm not sure giving the geth organic level intelligence is the best idea, not because I wanted them all dead instead, but I've grown up fearing them so much I'm worried they'll try and wipe us out. But then, the fleet seems to have backed off and so have the geth.

 

I glance up at the sky then at Reegar. He's still, fingers still poised on his gun out of habit even though the geth have stopped attacking us. Maybe when we get extracted someone will explain all this to us, but we're hardly a priority and even though they received my distress signal, they told me blatantly we'll be waiting a while when there's other people about to die who need them more.

 

Reegar shifts and I don't realise at first what he's doing, but when I do, my breath hitches in my throat and talking becomes difficult. He's dropped his gun and it starts off with Reegar pulling off his gloves, his pale fingers brushing the sandy ground of Rannoch with awe as he's crouched. Then, he's reaching for his helmet, and before I can try and say anything, he's pulled it off, and the only thing I can focus on is his angular, accented features, just like mine, and the thick brown hair spilling down over his suit. It's in dreadlocks, the total opposite of mine, which is a deep black, silky impossible-to-tie-up sort.

 

Reegar... He's every bit as handsome as I'd imagined, and in my disbelief that I'm seeing him bare makes his name slip from my lips without me noticing it at first.

 

He turns to me, and he's smiling. “I think our people have waited long enough to get out of these blasted suits.”

 

I try and say yes, but the word fails me so I just nod instead. Reegar reaches for my own helmet, but then stops himself. I realise he won't do this for me, and he shouldn't, either. It's something I have to do for myself.

 

So I reach for my helmet, undo the buckles, which feels so foreign and unusual to do because we don't remove them unless absolutely necessary, and I let the cage come free. I squint into the sun as the protective shading of my visor leaves my eyes, and I bring my hand up to shield them, before Reegar catches it in his own.

 

He's tugged off my glove in seconds and before I can stop him, he's pressed his face into my palm and he's breathing in deep my scent. When he pulls back and smiles at me, I'm still too dumbfounded to respond, and the only thing that shakes me out of it is when his hand curls around my sharp jawline and brings me closer.

 

When our lips touch, everything else gets drowned out. I don't hear the noise from the flotilla and geth. The only thing I can focus on is Reegar kissing me, and how right it feels, like it should have happened years ago, and shouldn't have needed our homeworld retaken to provoke it.  


	14. Fourteen

**Squishy/Beir – Present.**

 

“So, this is where you've been holed up, huh?” It's Reegar, I know it straight away. My heart quickens immediately and I take a deep breath, but keep my eyes on my omni-tool and the machine in front of me. Figured I'd try and help Saul out as much as I can before we leave tomorrow for the radio tower, poor turian could use it. He's not here at the moment, I insisted he give himself a break for once.

 

“Yeah,” I reply to Reegar's question.

 

I can hear him walking across the ground. “I figured you'd be here saying good bye to your precious machines.”

 

I laugh nervously and I hate myself for it. I sound so pathetic, weak, hesitant, when what I really want to do is grab that arrogant sod behind me by the shoulders and kiss him so hard he doesn't have something smartassy to say afterwards.

 

Reegar picks up on my nervousness, and I feel his hand touch my shoulder. “What's wrong-”

 

I grab him before I can stop myself, pull him forward until he's pressing into my back and I'm holding his hand against my visor.

 

There's nothing that needs to be said, we've both danced around each other like this for long enough now that we both know we want it. Reegar's unmasked me in what feels like seconds, and I feel his lips against the back of my neck, his hand pushing away my black hair. I don't know when he took his own mask off, or if he even had it on when he came in here, but I don't care.

 

Someone's making noises, soft moans and I think it's him, until I realise I'm doing it, too. His arms curl around my chest, holding me tight, possessively, and I succumb.

 

We've both wanted this for too long, we've both needed this. Maybe it's only happening now because we're not with the fleet, we're with some aliens who don't give a damn as long as we're doing our jobs properly. Maybe it's because we both know we're probably not going to make it out of here alive, so we might as well screw the rules now while we still have a chance.

 

Maybe it's because we've both waited long enough, or, maybe, it doesn't matter either way.

 

I know it doesn't to me, and I highly doubt it does to Reegar either, because he's not even the slightest bit concerned his naked body is pressing up against mine in a fairly public tent, or that we're knocking things over that I've just spent all day trying to get working again.

 

**Tali'Zorah – Migrant Fleet.**

 

After Shepard brokered a truce between the geth and the quarians, he needed a day or so of official business to sort out with the admirals before leaving the system. Shepard encouraged me to tie up anything I needed within the fleet before leaving again. We could discuss anything important back on the Normandy later.

 

So this is why I find myself here, in this elevator (I really had enough of elevators back when we were chasing Saren) with Kal and Beir heading up to a higher deck of the Tonbay. I'm going to the captain's quarters to say goodbye to Admiral Raan. Shepard doesn't need her at the moment, I think he's speaking with Koris somewhere or maybe Xen. I think Kal and Beir are getting off at the command deck to leave the ship, but that's only my assumption by their discuss about organising military matters on another vessel and work within the marines.

 

It's been silent for a bit, the elevator just closed after one of the Tonbay's engineers left. I didn't know him, but now it's just the three of us. Beir breaks the silence with a thoughtful hum.

 

Kal chuckles. He's been surprisingly teasing towards Beir today, almost as if... I frown and wonder. “Oh no,” Kal starts, “he's thinking again.”

 

Beir probably scowls at him. “It's just we're all together here before Tali leaves, makes me wonder if we shouldn't be having a meaningful conversation.”

 

“Alright.” There's something in Kal's voice which betrays the seriousness he's trying to put on. “The colours of your suit look like something a vorcha retched up.”

 

“And the colours of your suit just reinforces that your only good for firing guns,” Beir retorts. I can't help a laugh.

 

Kal huffs but I know it's forced. “Hmph. My gun is the only person that understands me.”

 

The elevator announces the arrival to the command deck and the doors open. Beir glances at Kal and there's a knowing moment between the two of them, before they head out, then turn back to me. They give me their farewells and then, just before the doors close again, Beir gives Kal a little nudge and he seems to remember something.

 

“Oh, yeah, Tali?”

 

I put my hand forward to keep the doors open a moment longer. “Yes?”

 

“You screwing that turian yet?” I gape at him, but soon turn to fury when he adds a polite, “ma'am,” at the end of it.

 

“I hate you both!” I slam the elevator shut and cross my hands grumpily over my chest, refusing to admit that maybe the thought has crossed my mind more than once but so help me I'll never let those two know that's the case.

 

**Squishy/Beir – Neema.**

 

I think my father expected me to lead our people like Tali does in this war, maybe even replace her given she's gone off with Shepard. I'd be awful at it, I think he knows that deep down, whether he will admit it or not. My place is not in high command, it's on the battlefield, doing what I trained to do. Reegar's being sent to Palaven with a small squad, I agreed to go with him. I came here to tell my father before we leave tomorrow, but the words are stuck in my throat.

 

My father stares at me, then figures it out on his own. “You're leaving.”

 

“Yes.”

 

His posture stiffens and he crosses his arms defensively. “Why?”

 

I think he's maybe given up trying to keep me from Reegar these days, and this is the final straw. He seems resigned already. “To do my job in this war.”

 

“You have a duty to your people-”

 

I snap. I've had enough of being lectured on what my _duty_ is for one life time. “My duty to our people will mean nothing if they are not alive because the reapers killed them! Find someone else to play politics with, I won't do it.”

 

I turn on my heel despite his threats. “Beir'Gerrel! If you leave-”

 

“Then exile me if that's what you want!” I spit over my shoulder. “It's not like you haven't thought of it before.”

 

He hesitates and I snarl at him, stomping out of his quarters as he whispers my name. I don't think I'll see him again, and I tell myself I don't want to.  


	15. Fifteen

**Squishy/Beir – En route to Palaven.**

 

The ship we're taking to join in the reaper war is big, packed to capacity with marines and other military staff and cramped. But all our ships are like this, so we're used to it. Not everyone is going to Palaven, that's only a small crew that Reegar's leading, everyone else is going to various other places. I think some are going to fight against Cerberus, or work on something I heard called the Crucible. Some higher ranking people are going to manage logistics with the other races, particularly helping the geth integrate (or more, help the other races to not shoot them on sight.)

 

Still, I have a room to myself at the moment. A small room that I share with another man (we alternate our shifts so only one person is using it at once), but it's still a room that's private and I'll take what I can get.

 

I should sleep soon, I'm technically on my sleeping downtime, but I'll do it in a little bit. Right now, I have work to do. Nothing really demanding, but there's a few reports I should file before I forget. And yet my thoughts are drifting. Damn Reegar, but they always land on him. I haven't seen him that much since we were stationed on this ship, not because we're avoiding each other, but I'm helping out in engineering and he's doing something else with the other marines.

 

I passed him the other day in the corridor though, and the memory of what he looks like floated back not for the first time since leaving Rannoch. I think he was smiling at me under his mask in that corridor, but I can never be sure. It wasn't a long conversation before he was dragged off to do something for someone else.

 

But it was enough to remind me that nothing has changed between us, and whatever this is is still there simmering under the surface, waiting for the opportunity to leap out and remind me of how I feel for him.

 

**Squishy/Beir – present.**

 

Perhaps we were lucky when we stormed the radio tower and there was only a token force of reapers there, because the ones we defeated easily upon landing were soon replaced. It didn't take long for reinforcements to flood in and the real fight to break out. There isn't even much cover here, the radio tower is just one large room and everyone else is stationed on the exits trying to fend off the reapers while I fix the comms. Surprisingly, it's not that difficult. The reapers didn't smash it into tiny pieces, they just hacked or deactivated it somehow. I have no idea how, and I'm playing it by ear how I fix this because I've never seen something in this condition before, but it's not as hard as I thought it would be.

 

Perhaps because I'm so consumed in fixing this stupid thing is why I'm missing the bigger picture of what's going on. It's only when I hear a curse to the left of me that I blink and look up. Reegar's positioned himself in the doorway of the exit at that end of the room, taking shots at the reapers when he can and using the entrance as cover in between. Just outside a little I remember is Lirin, there was a small ledge on the top of the ramp there that he ducked into. It let him snipe surprisingly well, but I remember Trin mentioning it wasn't the best place from a cover point of view and he'd probably get shot easily, but Lirin didn't care.

 

I glance at Reegar and realise he's the one that cursed, judging by the fresh blood staining his shoulder and the way he's wincing. Worry floods me and I forget momentarily what it is I'm here and meant to be doing.

 

“Reegar,” I call his name as I make a move to reach him but stop in my tracks as he replies.

 

“I'm fine.” He's grumpy and rude, the man I love hidden temporarily by the soldier that's required at the moment. I won't take it personally. “Fix the comms relay.”

 

I hesitate, glance back at the machine then at him. It's enough of a pause to really piss Reegar off.

 

“I said fix that fucking relay!”

 

He's never shouted at me before, not like that but it only makes me remember – and realise – really how important this thing is. If we fail, hundreds of turians will die.

 

As I head back to the comms I'm telling myself that I won't let that happen, not so long as I'm breathing still.

 

**Kal'Reegar – present.**

 

“ _Kal'Reegar_.”

 

The voice is patchy and I'm honestly surprised I'm hearing it, but quickly figure Squishy's managed to partially restore the comms and that's why I'm hearing General Kineka's voice in my earpiece. I'm guessing by the quality of his speech and the way he's cutting out now and then that Squishy's not completely done yet.

 

“General,” I reply to acknowledge I've heard him and grunt from the ache in my shoulder.

 

“Our scanners are reporting a huge presence of reapers in your area, but the communications are improving.” He doesn't need to tell me there's a fuckload of reapers here given I'm in the middle of it all, but I'll let it slide. “We're sending a team of krogan's in to hold the position once it's fixed.”

 

I shrug. If that's what he thinks is best, then fine. I don't really care who comes along and makes sure the reapers don't destroy this damn thing again.

 

“Do you require extraction?”

 

I pause and frown. Technically, we would, but I find myself wondering if there's any point. I'm wounded and I know Lirin is, he was shot early on and is slumped against the ledge he was using as cover. I think I can still hear him breathing. Barely.

 

I don't know how Trin and Gabi are doing because they're on the other exit, but if they're alive they're probably injured at least superficially. And we're quarians.

 

It's a difficult decision to make, but it's mine to do and I won't have the blood of more turians on my hands wasted on extracting a bunch of quarians who'd probably die anyway.

 

“No,” I reply.

 

“Kal'Reegar?” Kineka asks, almost hesitantly.

 

“We're all dead anyway,” I tell him. “Just make them pay.”

 

And he can be damn sure we'll hold this bleeding place until reinforcements arrive.  


	16. Epilogue

**Squishy/Beir – Present.**

 

I can hear the reapers coming, but it's muffled by my own heart thundering in my ears and delirium setting in. He's cold next to me. Reegar. How long I been here, slumped against his body, refusing to let go? We pushed the reapers back with the last of our strength, but they would regroup eventually. I fixed the relay, I remember that, but by the time I had, my team... I only remember falling to my knees beside Reegar and then... a ravager's canon firing and everything went dark.

 

I can hear a banshee screeching, the eerie thump of a cannibals footsteps up the ramp. They'll be here soon, and I won't be able to stop them. Everything we sacrificed will have been for nothing.

 

It hurts to turn my head and my eyes refuse to focus properly, but I can just make out the bodies strewn around us. Gabi and Trin, one of his arms still extended out to try and protect her as if he could have saved her from the three gaping pierce wounds in her stomach from the banshee. Lirin, contorted unnaturally over a crate, Reegar brought him in from the ramp. But the force a ravagers gun sent our sniper flying and I can see the ravagers corpse next to him, still oozing that foul acid.

 

The reapers are coming closer now, they're shooting, shouting, even, but I can't distinguish noises properly any more. I wish they would hurry up, finish it and stop toying with us. We know it, we failed, we'll be the death of hundreds of turians, it'd be merciful for them to just get it over with already.

 

I feel a pair of strong hands grab my shoulders, and I figure in that case it'll be a banshee to stab me through the heart. Not like I'd care either way how I die.

 

“This ones still alive!” That sounds krogan?

 

Now I'm not sure if I'm hallucinating or they did make it. Keelah, I hope they did, anything to make this massacre mean something so that I can die in peace. They're trying to pull me away but I can't leave, I won't leave.

 

I moan, struggle against them but even if I wasn't half dead there's not much I could do against a krogan anyway.

 

I've been flung over someone's shoulder and it wracks pain through my body. I figure I've cried out from the agony because the krogan grumbles, “hmph, _quarians_.”

 

“Get him to the evac shuttle,” someone else says. “We'll hold this bleeding place until the turians remember how to fight again.”

 

They're taking me away. I can't leave, I won't. I struggle, trying, hoping that they might let me stay and die with my people rather than trying to rescue me. It won't do any good, I'll die either way, can't they see that?

 

But they won't let me go and I can see my people becoming further and further away, the man I love disappearing before me. I try and reach my hand out towards him, let his name slip brokenly from my lips once more, before everything goes black and I pass out.

 

 _Kal'Reegar_.

 

**Epilogue**

 

The field hospital is chaotic at best. There are doctors running around haphazardly, trying to save those they can, and knowing that even as hard as they try, most of the injured soldiers there will die. There isn't anything they can do for the majority of them, there aren't enough staff and there definitely isn't enough supplies. They stopped being able to ease peoples suffering weeks ago.

 

Now, it comes down to ruthless statistics. They ration what they do have to save the ones with the best chances, and don't think about those they had to leave to die when they try to sleep at night.

 

But, that is war, and casualty-wise, this war has been worse than any other.

 

There's a surge of new panic as a krogan comes rushing into the camp, one turian following him. But it's not even close to enough panic to generate more than a glance from the already overtaxed medical staff. The krogan's carrying a body, soaked in purple-red blood, limp and totally unrecognisable if not for the bowed legs dangling and thick mass of tangled wires connected from the person's helmet to the back of their suit.

 

It's a quarian, and as the krogan places the body on a free bed – permanently stained blue from turian blood – all the doctors are thinking the same thing. _What does he expect us to do with a quarian?_

 

Even under normal circumstances, his outlook would be uncertain at best. And under these? It would be insulting to even try and save him, when almost every other turian soldier in this tent would have a better chance of making it.

 

“ _Do_ something,” the turian accompanying shouts. It's only then the staff realise he's the general himself and a couple of them glance at the quarian who's breathing is erratic and is unconscious. “His squad saved you all, if you can't help him, then at least put him out of his misery.”

 

There's hesitation at first, but then one staff member comes over. A second follows, and they glance at each other, then back at the patient. The quarian's suit is covered in so much blood they can't even see where it might be coming from. Infection has definitely already set in, but given the current state of the patient, just keeping him from going into cardiac arrest or bleeding out will be more of a challenge. His visor is cracked but still intact and the once beautiful decorations of his suit's shawl is unrecognisable, both from blood, cuts and fraying.

 

“Connect him to the ECG,” one of the doctors states as he leans over the quarian. The other obliges, and neither of them has to be a medical professional to know the erratic beeps coming from the connected machine aren't normal.

 

It's fast, irregular and worrying, but it only lasts minutes before it becomes a solid, piercing noise and everyone in the room knows the patient's heart has given out on him. There's a frantic couple of moments, shouting and demands from staff and the violent ripping open of the quarian's suit. More equipment is pressed against his chest, his body convulsing with each electrical shock that surges through him.

 

And throughout, the turian general merely stares at the machine blaring that same, monotonous _beep_. Hoping, praying, wishing that he hadn't sent every one of those quarians to their deaths, that at least one would survive, something, _anything_.

 

There's a curse from one of the doctors and he backs off, but the general doesn't notice it. It's followed by what feels like an hour of eerie silence, before the spirits answer his prays and gives him the smallest, most brief flickers of hope.

 

A single break in the machine's screeching.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's read and supported this :D I really appreciate it!


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